THE   COMEDY  OF  HUMAN  LIFE 
By  H.  DE  BALZAC 


scenes  from  provincial  life 
The  Two   Brothers 

(UN  MENAGE  DE  GARCON) 


BALZAC'S     NOVELS. 

Translated  by  Miss  K.  P.  Wormeley. 


Already  Published: 
PERE     GORIOT. 
DUCHESSE     DE     LANGEAIS. 
RISE  AND  PALL  OP  CESAR  BIROTTEAU. 
EUGENIE     GRANDET. 
COUSIN     PONS. 
THE     COUNTRY     DOCTOR. 
THE     TWO     BROTHERS. 
THE    ALKAHEST. 
MODESTE     MIGNON. 
THE   MAGIC    SKIN  (Peau  de  Chagrin). 
COUSIN     BETTE. 
LOUIS     LAMBERT. 
BUREAUCRACY  (Lea  Employes). 
SERAPHITA. 
SONS    OP    THE    SOIL. 
FAME    AND    SORROW. 
THE   LILY   OP    THE   VALLEY. 
URSULA. 

AN   HISTORICAL   MYSTERY. 
ALBERT    SAVARUS. 


ROBERTS    BROTHERS,    Publishers, 
BOSTON. 


HONORE    DE    BALZAC 

n 

TRANSLATED     BY 

KATHARINE    PRESCOTT    WORMELEY 


*THE 


TWO    BROTHERS 


ROBERTS     BROTHERS 

3     SOMERSET     STREET 

BOSTON 

1892 


2/U 


Copyright,  1887, 
By  Roberts  Brothers. 


All  rights  reserved, 

SO*  Ml 


fflmbenittg  $)rcss : 
John  Wilson  and  Son,   Cambridge. 


^sViB/^^^   SDeUtcattaiu 
univebsit^ 


TO 


MONSIEUR    CHARLES    NODIER, 

MEMBER   OF   THE   FRENCH   ACADEMY,    ETC 


TTERE,  my  dear  Nodier,  is  a  book  filled  with  deeds 
that  are  screened  from  the  action  of  the  laws  b}^ 
the  closed  doors  of  domestic*  life  ;  but  as  to  which  the 
finger  of  God,  often  called  chance,  supplies'  the  place 
of  human  justice,  and  in  which  the  moral  is  none  the 
less  striking  and  instructive  because  it  is  pointed  by 
a  scoffer. 

To  my  mind,  such  deeds  contain  great  lessons  for  the 
Family  and  for  Maternity.  We  shall  some  day  realize, 
perhaps  too  late,  the  effects  produced  by  the  diminution 
of  paternal  authority.  That  authority,  which  formerly 
ceased  only  at  the  death  of  the  father,  was  the  sole 
human  tribunal  before  which  domestic  crimes  could  be 
arraigned;  kings  themselves,  on  special  occasions,  took 
part  in  executing  its  judgments.  However  good  and 
tender  a  mother  may  be,  she  cannot  fulfil  the  function 


vi  Dedication. 

of  the  patriarchal  royalty  any  more  than  a  woman  esxxi 
take  the  place  of  a  king  upon  the  throne.  Perhaps  I 
have  never  drawn  a  picture  that  shows  more  plainly 
how  essential  to  European  society  is  the  indissoluble 
marriage  bond,  how  fatal  the  results  of  feminine  weak- 
ness, how  great  the  dangers  arising  from  selfish  interests 
when  indulged  without  restraint.  Ma}'  a  society  which 
is  based  solely  on  the  power  of  wealth  shudder  as  it 
sees  the  impotence  of  law  in  dealing  with  the  workings 
of  a  S3Tstem  which  deifies  success,  and  pardons  ever}- 
means  of  attaining  it.  May  it  return  to  the  Catholic 
religion,  for  the  purification  of  its  masses  through  the 
inspiration  of  religious  feelings,  and  by  means  of  an 
education  other  than  that  of  a  lay  university. 

In  the  "Scenes  from  Military  Life"  so  many  fine 
natures,  so  many  high  and  noble  self-devotions  will  be 
set  forth,  that  I  may  here  be  allowed  to  point  out  the 
depraving  effect  of  the  necessities  of  war  upon  certain 
minds  who  venture  to  act  in  domestic  life  as  if  upon 
the  field  of  battle. 

You  have  cast  a  sagacious  glance  over  the  events 
of  our  own  time ;  its  philosophy  shines,  in  more  than 
one  bitter  reflection,  through  your  elegant  pages ;  you 
have  appreciated,  more  clearly  than  other  men,  the 
havoc  wrought  in  the  mind  of  our  country  by  the  ex- 
istence of  four  distinct  political  systems.  I  cannot, 
therefore,  place  this  history  under  the  protection  of  a 


Dedication.  vii 

more  competent  authority.  Your  name  ma}',  perhaps, 
defend  my  work  against  the  criticisms  that  are  certain 
to  follow  it,  —  for  where  is  the  patient  who  keeps  silence 
when  the  surgeon  lifts  the  dressing  from  his  wound  ? 

To  the  pleasure  of  dedicating  this  Scene  to  you,  is 
joined  the  pride  I  feel  in  thus  making  known  your 
friendship  for  one  who  here  subscribes  himself 

Your  sincere  admirer, 

De  BALZAC. 

Paris,  November,  1842. 


THE  TWO  BROTHEES. 


i. 


In  1792  the  townspeople  of  Issoudun  enjoyed  the 
services  of  a  physician  named  Rouget,  whom  the}*  held 
to  be  a  man  of  consummate  malignity .  Were  we  to 
believe  certain  bold  tongues,  he  made  his  wife  extremely 
unhappy,  although  she  was  the  most  beautiful  woman 
of  the  neighborhood.  Perhaps,  indeed,  she  was  rather 
silly.  But  the  prying  of  friends,  the  slander  of  enemies, 
and  the  gossip  of  acquaintances,  had  never  succeeded 
in  laying  bare  the  interior  of  that  household.  Doctor 
Rouget  was  a  man  of  whom  we  say  in  common  par- 
lance, "He  is  not  pleasant  to  deal  with."  Conse- 
quently, during  his  lifetime,  his  townsmen  kept  silence 
about  him  and  treated  him  civilly.  His  wife,  a  demoi- 
selle Descoings,  feeble  in  health  during  her  girlhood 
(which  was  said  to  be  a  reason  why  the  doctor  married 
her),  gave  birth  to  a  son,  and  also  to  a  daughter  who 
arrived,  unexpectedly,  ten  years  after  her  brother,  and 
whose  birth  took  the  husband,  doctor  though  he  were, 
by  surprise.     This  late-comer  was  named  Agathe. 

These  little  facts  are  so  simple,  so  commonplace,  that 
a  writer  seems  scarcely  justified  in  placing  them  in  the 
fore-front  of  his  history ;  yet  if  they  are  not  known, 
a  man  of  Doctor  Rouget's  stamp  would  be  thought  a 
monster,  an  unnatural  father,  when,  in  point  of  fact, 

1 


2  The  Two  Brothers. 

he  was  only  following  out  the  evil  tendencies  which 
many  people  shelter  under  the  terrible  axiom  that 
"  men  should  have  strength  of  character,"  —  a  mascu- 
line phrase  that  has  caused  man}T  a  woman's  miser}'. 

The  Descoings,  father-in-law  and  mother-in-law  of  the 
doctor,  were  commission  merchants  in  the  wool-trade, 
and  did  a  double  business  by  selling  for  the  producers 
and  buying  for  the  manufacturers  the  golden  fleeces  of 
Berry  ;  thus  pocketing  a  commission  on  both  sides.  In 
this  wa}'  they  grew  rich  and  miserly  —  the  outcome  of 
many  such  lives.  Descoings  the  son,  3-ounger  brother 
of  Madame  Rouget,  did  not  like  Issoudun.  He  went 
to  seek  his  fortune  in  Paris,  where  he  set  up  as  a  grocer 
in  the  rue  Saint-Honore.  That  step  led  to  his  ruin. 
But  nothing  could  have  hindered  it :  a  grocer  is  drawn 
to  his  business  by  an  attracting  force  quite  equal  to  the 
repelling  force  which  drives  artists  away  from  it.  We 
do  not  sufficiently  study  the  social  potentialities  which 
make  up  the  various  vocations  of  life.  It  would  be 
interesting  to  know  what  determines  one  man  to  be  a 
stationer  rather  than  a  baker  ;  since,  in  our  da}T,  sons  are 
not  compelled  to  follow  the  calling  of  their  fathers,  as 
they  were  among  the  Egyptians.  In  this  instance,  love 
decided  the  vocation  of  Descoings.  He  said  to  him- 
self, "I,  too,  will  be  a  grocer!"  and  in  the  same 
breath  he  said  (also  to  himself)  some  other  things  re- 
garding his  employer,  —  a  beautiful  creature,  with  whom 
he  had  fallen  desperatety  in  love.  Without  other  help 
than  patience  and  the  trifling  sum  of  money  his  father 
and  mother  sent  him,  he  married  the  widow  of  his 
predecessor,  Monsieur  Bixiou. 

In  1792  Descoings  was  thought  to  be  doing  an  excel- 
lent business.     At  that  time,  the  old  Descoings  were 


The  Two  Brothers.  3 

still  living.  The}'  had  retired  from  the  wool-trade, 
and  were  employing  their  capital  in  buying  up  the  for- 
feited estates, —  another  golden  fleece!  Their  son-in- 
law  Doctor  Rouget,  who,  about  this  time,  felt  pretty 
sure  that  he  should  soon  have  to  mourn  for  the  death 
of  his  wife,  sent  his  daughter  to  Paris  to  the  care  of  his 
brother-in-law,  partly  to  let  her  see  the  capital,  but  still 
more  to  carry  out  an  artful  scheme  of  his  own.  Des- 
coings  had  no  children.  Madame  Descoings,  twelve 
years  older  than  her  husband,  was  in  good  health,  but 
as  fat  as  a  thrush  after  harvest ;  and  the  canny  Rouget 
knew  enough  professionally  to  be  certain  that  Monsieur 
and  Madame  Descoings,  contrary  to  the  moral  of  fairy- 
tales, would  live  happy  ever  after  without  having  any 
children.  The  pair  might  therefore  become  attached 
to  Agathe. 

That  young  girl,  the  handsomest  maiden  in  Issoudun, 
did  not  resemble  either  father  or  mother.  Her  birth 
had  caused  a  lasting  breach  between  Doctor  Rouget 
and  his  intimate  friend  Monsieur  Lousteau,  a  former 
sub-delegate  who  had  lately  removed  from  the  town. 
When  a  family  expatriates  itself,  the  natives  of  a  place 
as  attractive  as  Issoudun  have  a  right  to  inquire  into 
the  reasons  of  so  surprising  a  step.  It  was  said  b}' 
certain  sharp  tongues  that  Doctor  Rouget,  a  vindictive 
man,  had  been  heard  to  exclaim  that  Lousteau  should 
die  by  his  hand.  Uttered  by  a  physician,  this  declaration 
had  the  force  of  a  cannon-ball.  When  the  National  As- 
sembly suppressed  the  sub-delegates,  Lousteau  and  his 
family  left  Issoudun,  and  never  returned  there.  After 
their  departure  Madame  Rouget  spent  most  of  her 
time  with  the  sister  of  the  late  sub-delegate,  Madame 
Hochon,  who  was  the  godmother  of  her  daughter,  and 


4  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  only  person  to  whom  she  confided  her  griefs.  The 
little  that  the  good  town  of  Issondun  ever  really  knew 
of  the  beautiful  Madame  Rouget  was  told  by  Madame 
Hochon,  —  though  not  until  after  the  doctor's  death. 

The  first  words  of  Madame  Rouget,  when  informed 
by  her  husband  that  he  meant  to  send  Agathe  to  Paris, 
were :  "I  shall  never  see  my  daughter  again." 

"  And  she  was  right,"  said  the  worthy  Madame 
Hochon. 

After  this,  the  poor  mother  grew  as  yellow  as  a 
quince,  and  her  appearance  did  not  contradict  the 
tongues  of  those  who  declared  that  Doctor  Rouget  was 
killing  her  by  inches.  The  behavior  of  her  D00D3-  of  a 
son  must  have  added  to  the  misery  of  the  poor  woman 
so  unjustly  accused.  Not  restrained,  possibly  encour- 
aged by  his  father,  the  young  fellow,  who  was  in  every- 
way stupid,  paid  her  neither  the  attentions  nor  the  re- 
spect which  a  son  owes  to  a  mother.  Jean-Jacques 
Rouget  was  like  his  father,  especially  on  the  latter's 
worst  side ;  and  the  doctor  at  his  best  was  far  from 
satisfactory,  either  morally  or  physically. 

The  arrival  of  the  charming  Agathe  Rouget  did  not 
bring  happiness  to  her  uncle  Descoings ;  for  in  the 
same  week  (or  rather,  we  should  say  decade,  for  the 
Republic  had  then  been  proclaimed)  he  was  imprisoned 
on  a  hint  from  Robespierre  given  to  Fouquier-Tinville. 
Descoings,  who  was  imprudent  enough  to  think  the 
famine  fictitious,  had  the  additional  foil}-,  under  the  im- 
pression that  opinions  were  free,  to  express  that  opin- 
ion to  several  of  his  male  and  female  customers  as  he 
served  them  in  the  grocery.  The  citoyenne  Duplay, 
wife  of  a  cabinet-maker  with  whom  Robespierre  lodged, 
and  who   looked   after  the   household    affairs  of   that 


The  Two  Brothers.  5 

eminent  citizen,  patronized,  unfortunately,  the  Des- 
coings  establishment.  She  considered  the  opinions  of 
the  grocer  insulting  to  Maximilian  the  First.  Already 
displeased  with  the  manners  of  Descoings,  this  illustri- 
ous tricoteuse  of  the  Jacobin  club  regarded  the  beauty  of 
his  wife  as  a  kind  of  aristocracy.  She  infused  a  venom 
of  her  own  into  the  grocer's  remarks  when  she  re- 
peated them  to  her  good  and  gentle  master,  and  the 
poor  man  was  speedily  arrested  on  the  well-worn  charge 
of  "  accaparation." 

No  sooner  was  he  put  in  prison,  than  his  wife  set  to 
work  to  obtain  his  release.  But  the  steps  she  took  were 
so  ill-judged  that  any  one  hearing  her  talk  to  the  arbi- 
ters of  his  fate  might  have  thought  that  she  was  in  real- 
ity seeking  to  get  rid  of  him.  Madame  Descoings  knew 
Bridau,  one  of  the  secretaries  of  Roland,  then  minister 
of  the  interior,  —  the  right-hand  man  of  all  the  minis- 
ters who  succeeded  each  other  in  that  office.  She  put 
Bridau  on  the  war-path  to  save  her  grocer.  That  in- 
corruptible official  —  one  of  the  virtuous  dupes  who  are 
always  admirably  disinterested  —  was  careful  not  to 
corrupt  the  men  on  whom  the  fate  of  the  poor  grocer- 
depended  ;  on  the  contraiy,  he  endeavored  to  enlighten 
them.  Enlighten  people  in  those  days  !  As  well  might 
he  have  begged  them  to  bring  back  the  Bourbons.  The 
Girondist  minister,  who  was  then  contending  against 
Robespierre,  said  to  his  secretary,  "  Why  do  you  med- 
dle in  the  matter?"  and  all  others  to  whom  the  worthy 
Bridau  appealed  made  the  same  atrocious  reply :  "  Why 
do  you  meddle  ?  "  Bridau  then  sagely  advised  Madame 
Descoings  to  keep  quiet  and  await  events.  But  instead 
of  conciliating  Robespierre's  housekeeper,  she  fretted 
and  fumed  against  that  informer,  and  even  complained 


8  The  Two  Brothers, 

ing  his  stupidity,  had  latterly  treated  with  severity,  re- 
mained a  bachelor  for  certain  reasons,  the  explanation 
of  which  will  form  an  important  part  of  this  history. 
His  celibacy  was  partly  his  father's  fault,  as  we  shall 
see  later. 

Meantime,  it  is  well  to  inquire  into  the  results  o  the 
secret  vengeance  the  doctor  took  on  a  daughter  w  om 
he  did  not  recognize  as  his  own,  but  who,  you  must  n- 
derstand  once  for  all,  was  legitimately  his.  Not  a  p*  r- 
son  in  Issoudun  had  noticed  one  of  those  capricious 
facts  that  make  the  whole  subject  of  generation  a  vast 
abyss  in  which  science  flounders.  Agathe  bore  a  strong 
likeness  to  the  mother  of  Doctor  Rouget.  Just  as  gout 
is  said  to  skip  a  generation  and  pass  from  grandfather 
to  grandson,  resemblances  not  uncommonly  follow  the 
same  course. 

In  like  manner,  the  eldest  of  Agathe's  children,  who 
physically  resembled  his  mother,  had  the  moral  quali- 
ties of  his  grandfather,  Doctor  Rouget.  We  will  leave 
the  solution  of  this  problem  to  the  twentieth  century, 
with  a  fine  collection  of  microscopic  animalculse ;  our 
descendants  ma}T  perhaps  write  as  much  nonsense  as  the 
scientific  schools  of  the  nineteenth  century  have  uttered 
on  this  mysterious  and  perplexing  question. 

Agathe  Rouget  attracted  the  admiration  of  everyone 
by  a  face  destined,  like  that  of  Mary,  the  mother  of  our 
Lord,  to  continue  ever  virgin,  even  after  marriage.  Her 
portrait,'  still  to  be  seen  in  the  atelier  of  Briclau,  shows 
a  perfect  oval  and  a  clear  whiteness  of  complexion, 
without  the  faintest  tinge  of  color,  in  spite  of  her  golden 
hair.  More  than  one  artist,  looking  at  the  pure  brow, 
the  discreet,  composed  mouth,  the  delicate  nose,  the 
small  ears,  the  long  lashes,  and  the  dark-blue  e3*es  filled 


The  Two  Brothers.  9 

with  tenderness,  —  in  short,  at  the  whole  countenance 
expressive  of  placidity,  —  has  asked  the  great  artist, 
44  Is  that  the  copy  of  a  Raphael?  "  No  man  ever  acted 
under  a  truer  inspiration  than  the  minister's  secretary 
when  he  married  this  young  girl.  Agathe  was  an  em- 
bodiment of  the  ideal  housekeeper  brought  up  in  the 
provinces  and  never  parted  from  her  mother.  Pious, 
though  far  from  sanctimonious,  she  had  no  other  educa- 
tion than  that  given  to  women  byr  the  Church.  Judged 
by  ordinary  standards,  she  was  an  accomplished  wife, 
yet  her  ignorance  of  life  paved  the  way  for  great  mis- 
fortunes. The  epitaph  on  the  Roman  matron,  "She 
did  needlework  and  kept  the  house,"  gives  a  faithful  pic- 
ture of  her  simple,  pure,  and  tranquil  existence. 

Under  the  Consulate,  Bridau  attached  himself  fanati- 
cally to  Napoleon,  who  placed  him  at  the  head  of  a  de- 
partment in  the  ministry  of  the  interior  in  1804,  a  year 
before  the  death  of  Doctor  Rouget.  With  a  salary  of 
twelve  thousand  francs  and  very  handsome  emoluments, 
Bridau  was  quite  indifferent  to  the  scandalous  settlement 
of  the  property  at  Issoudun,  by  which  Agathe  was  de- 
prived of  her  rightful  inheritance.  Six  months  before 
Doctor  Rouget's  death  he  had  sold  one-half  of  his  prop- 
erty to  his  son,  to  whom  the  other  half  was  bequeathed 
as  a  gift,  and  also  in  accordance  with  his  rights  as  heir. 
An  advance  of  fifty  thousand  francs  on  her  inheri- 
tance, made  to  Agathe  at  the  time  of  her  marriage, 
represented  her  share  of  the  property  of  her  father  and 
and  mother. 

Bridau  idolized  the  Emperor,  and  served  him  with  the 
devotion  of  a  Mohammedan  for  his  prophet ;  striving  to 
cany  out  the  vast  conceptions  of  the  modern  demi-god, 
who,  finding  the  whole  fabric  of  France  destroyed,  went 


8  The  Two  Brothers. 

ing  his  stupidity,  had  latterly  treated  with  severity,  re- 
mained a  bachelor  for  certain  reasons,  the  explanation 
of  which  will  form  an  important  part  of  this  history. 
His  celibacy  was  partly  his  father's  fault,  as  we  shall 
see  later. 

Meantime,  it  is  well  to  inquire  into  the  results  o  the 
secret  vengeance  the  doctor  took  on  a  daughter  w  om 
he  did  not  recognize  as  his  own,  but  who,  you  must  n- 
derstand  once  for  all,  was  legitimately  his.  Not  a  pt  r- 
son  in  Issoudun  had  noticed  one  of  those  capricious 
facts  that  make  the  whole  subject  of  generation  a  vast 
abyss  in  which  science  flounders.  Agathe  bore  a  strong 
likeness  to  the  mother  of  Doctor  Rouget.  Just  as  gout 
is  said  to  skip  a  generation  and  pass  from  grandfather 
to  grandson,  resemblances  not  uncommonly  follow  the 
same  course. 

In  like  manner,  the  eldest  of  Agathe's  children,  who 
physically  resembled  his  mother,  had  the  moral  quali- 
ties of  his  grandfather,  Doctor  Rouget.  We  will  leave 
the  solution  of  this  problem  to  the  twentieth  century, 
with  a  fine  collection  of  microscopic  animalculae ;  our 
descendants  ma}'  perhaps  write  as  much  nonsense  as  the 
scientific  schools  of  the  nineteenth  century  have  uttered 
on  this  nrysterious  and  perplexing  question. 

Agathe  Rouget  attracted  the  admiration  of  everjone 
by  a  face  destined,  like  that  of  Mary,  the  mother  of  our 
Lord,  to  continue  ever  virgin,  even  after  marriage.  Her 
portrait,  still  to  be  seen  in  the  atelier  of  Bridau,  shows 
a  perfect  oval  and  a  clear  whiteness  of  complexion, 
without  the  faintest  tinge  of  color,  in  spite  of  her  golden 
hair.  More  than  one  artist,  looking  at  the  pure  brow, 
the  discreet,  composed  mouth,  the  delicate  nose,  the 
small  ears,  the  long  lashes,  and  the  dark-blue  ej-es  filled 


The  Two  Brothers.  9 

with  tenderness,  —  in  short,  at  the  whole  countenance 
expressive  of  placidit}',  —  has  asked  the  great  artist, 
44  Is  that  the  copy  of  a  Raphael?  "  No  man  ever  acted 
under  a  truer  inspiration  than  the  minister's  secretary 
when  he  married  this  young  girl.  Agathe  was  an  em- 
bodiment of  the  ideal  housekeeper  brought  up  in  the 
provinces  and  never  parted  from  her  mother.  Pious, 
though  far  from  sanctimonious,  she  had  no  other  educa- 
tion than  that  given  to  women  b}r  the  Church.  Judged 
by  ordinary  standards,  she  was  an  accomplished  wife, 
yet  her  ignorance  of  life  paved  the  way  for  great  mis- 
fortunes. The  epitapli  on  the  Roman  matron,  "She 
did  needlework  and  kept  the  house,"  gives  a  faithful  pic- 
ture of  her  simple,  pure,  and  tranquil  existence. 

Under  the  Consulate,  Bridau  attached  himself  fanati- 
cally to  Napoleon,  who  placed  him  at  the  head  of  a  de- 
partment in  the  ministry  of  the  interior  in  1804,  a  year 
before  the  death  of  Doctor  Rouget.  With  a  salary  of 
twelve  thousand  francs  and  very  handsome  emoluments, 
Bridau  was  quite  indifferent  to  the  scandalous  settlement 
of  the  propert}'  at  Issoudun,  by  which  Agathe  was  de- 
prived of  her  rightful  inheritance.  Six  months  before 
Doctor  Rouget's  death  he  had  sold  one-half  of  his  prop- 
erty to  his  son,  to  whom  the  other  half  was  bequeathed 
as  a  gift,  and  also  in  accordance  with  his  rights  as  heir. 
An  advance  of  fifty  thousand  francs  on  her  inheri- 
tance, made  to  Agathe  at  the  time  of  her  marriage, 
represented  her  share  of  the  property  of  her  father  and 
and  mother. 

Bridau  idolized  the  Emperor,  and  served  him  with  the 
devotion  of  a  Mohammedan  for  his  prophet ;  striving  to 
cany  out  the  vast  conceptions  of  the  modern  demi-god, 
who,  finding  the  whole  fabric  of  France  destroyed,  went 


10  The  Two  Brothers. 

to  work  to  reconstruct  everything.  The  new  official 
never  showed  fatigue,  never  cried  "  Enough."  Projects, 
reports,  notes,  studies,  he  accepted  all,  even  the  hard- 
est labors,  happy  in  the  consciousness  of  aiding  his 
Emperor.  He  loved  him  as  a  man,  he  adored  him  as  a 
sovereign,  and  he  would  never  allow  the  least  criticism 
of  his  acts  or  his  purposes. 

From  1804  to  1808,  the  Bridaus  lived  in  a  handsome 
suite  of  rooms  on  the  Quai  Voltaire,  a  few  steps  from 
the  ministry  of  the  interior  and  close  to  the  Tuileries. 
A  cook  and  footman  were  the  only  servants  of  the  house- 
hold during  this  period  of  Madame  Bridau's  grandeur. 
Agathe,  early  afoot,  went  to  market  with  her  cook. 
While  the  latter  did  the  rooms,  she  prepared  the  break- 
fast. Bridau  never  went  to  the  ministry  before  eleven 
o'clock.  As  long  as  their  union  lasted,  his  wife  took 
the  same  unwearying  pleasure  in  preparing  for  him  an 
exquisite  breakfast,  the  only  meal  he  really  enjoyed. 
At  all  seasons  and  in  all  weathers,  Agathe  watched  her 
husband  from  the  window  as  he  walked  toward  his 
office,  and  never  drew  in  her  head  until  she  had  seen 
him  turn  the  corner  of  the  rue  du  Bac.  Then  she 
cleared  the  breakfast-table  herself,  gave  an  e}'e  to  the 
arrangement  of  the  rooms,  dressed  for  the  day,  pla\ed 
with  her  children  and  took  them  to  walk,  or  received 
the  visits  of  friends ;  all  the  while  waiting  in  spirit  for 
Bridau's  return.  If  her  husband  brought  home  impor- 
tant business  that  had  to  be  attended  to,  she  would 
station  herself  close  to  the  writing-table  in  his  study, 
silent  as  a  statue,  knitting  while  he  wrote,  sitting  up 
as  late  as  he  did,  and  going  to  bed  only  a  few  moments 
before  him.  Occasionally,  the  pair  went  to  some  thea- 
tre, occupying  one  of  the  ministerial  boxes.     On  those 


The  Two  Brothers.  11 

days,  the}'  dined  at  a  restaurant,  and  the  gay  scenes  of 
that  establishment  never  ceased  to  give  Madame  Bridau 
the  same  livety  pleasure  they  afford  to  provincials  who 
are  new  to  Paris.  Agathe,  who  was  obliged  to  accept 
the  formal  dinners  sometimes  given  to  the  head  of  a 
department  in  a  ministiy,  paid  due  attention  to  the 
luxurious  requirements  of  the  then  mode  of  dress,  but 
she  took  off  the  rich  apparel  with  delight  when  she  re- 
turned home,  and  resumed  the  simple  garb  of  a  provin- 
cial. One  day  in  the  week,  Thursday,  Bridau  received 
his  friends,  and  he  also  gave  a  grand  ball,  annually,  on 
Shrove  Tuesday. 

These  few  words  contain  the  whole  history  of  their 
conjugal  life,  which  had  but  three  events  :  the  births  of 
two  children,  born  three  years  apart,  and  the  death  of 
Bridau,  who  died  in  1808,  killed  by  overwork  at  the 
very  moment  when  the  Emperor  was  about  to  appoint 
him  director-general,  count,  and  councillor  of  state.  At 
this  period  of  his  reign,  Napoleon  was  particularly  ab- 
sorbed in  the  affairs  of  the  interior ;  he  overwhelmed 
Bridau  with  work,  and  finally  wrecked  the  health  of 
that  dauntless  bureaucrat.  The  Emperor,  of  whom 
Bridau  had  never  asked  a  favor,  made  inquiries  into  his 
habits  and  fortune.  Finding  that  this  devoted  servant 
literally  had  nothing  but  his  situation,  Napoleon  recog- 
nized him  as  one  of  the  incorruptible  natures  which 
raised  the  character  of  his  government  and  gave  moral 
weight  to  it,  and  he  wished  to  surprise  him  by  the  gift 
of  some  distinguished  reward.  But  the  effort  to  com- 
plete a  certain  work,  involving  immense  labor,  before 
the  departure  of  the  Emperor  for  Spain  caused  the  death 
of  the  devoted  servant,  who  was  seized  with  an  inflam- 
matory fever.     When  the  Emperor,  who  remained  in 


12  The  Two  Brothers. 

Paris  for  a  few  days  after  his  return  to  prepare  for  the 
campaign  of  1809,  was  told  of  Bridau's  death  he  said : 
w  There  are  men  who  can  never  be  replaced."  Struck 
by  the  spectacle  of  a  devotion  which  could  receive  none 
of  the  brilliant  recognitions  that  reward  a  soldier,  the 
Emperor  resolved  to  create  an  order  to  requite  civil 
services,  just  as  he  had  already  created  the  Legion  of 
honor  to  reward  the  militar3T.  The  impression  he  re- 
ceived from  the  death  of  Bridau  led  him  to  plan  the 
order  of  the  Reunion.  He  had  not  time,  however,  to 
mature  this  aristocratic  scheme,  the  recollection  of 
which  is  now  so  completely  effaced  that  man}-  of  my 
readers  may  ask  what  were  its  insignia :  the  order  was 
worn  with  a  blue  ribbon.  The  Emperor  called  it  the 
Reunion,  under  the  idea  of  uniting  the  order  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  of  Spain  with  the  order  of  the  Golden 
Fleece  of  Austria.  "Providence,"  said  a  Prussian  di- 
plomatist, "  took  care  to  frustrate  the  profanation." 

After  Bridau's  death,  the  Emperor  inquired  into  the 
circumstances  of  his  widow.  Her  two  sons  each  re- 
ceived a  scholarship  in  the  Imperial  Lyceum,  and  the 
Emperor  paid  the  whole  costs  of  their  education  from 
his  privy  purse.  He  gave  Madame  Bridau  a  pension  of 
four  thousand  francs,  intending,  no  doubt,  to  advance 
the  fortune  of  her  sons  in  future  years. 

From  the  time  of  her  marriage  to  the  death  of  her 
husband,  Agathe  had  held  no  communication  with  Issou- 
dun.  She  lost  her  mother  just  as  she  was  on  the  point 
of  giving  birth  to  her  youngest  son,  and  when  her 
father,  who,  as  she  well  knew,  loved  her  little,  died,  the 
coronation  of  the  Emperor  was  at  hand,  and  that  event 
gave  Bridau  so  much  additional  work  that  she  was  un- 
willing to  leave  him.    Her  brother,  Jean-Jacques  Rouget, 


The  Two  Brothers.  13 

had  not  written  to  her  since  she  left  Issoudun.  Though 
grieved  by  the  tacit  repudiation  of  her  family,  Agathe 
had  come  to  think  seldom  of  those  who  never  thought 
of  her.  Once  a  year  she  received  a  letter  from  her 
godmother,  Madame  Hochon,  to  whom  she  replied  with 
commonplaces,  paying  no  heed  to  the  advice  which  that 
pious  and  excellent  woman  gave  to  her,  disguised  in 
cautious  words. 

Some  time  before  the  death  of  Doctor  Rouget,  Ma- 
dame Hochon  had  written  to  her  goddaughter  warning 
her  that  she  would  get  nothing  from  her  father's  estate 
unless  she  gave  a  power  of  attorney  to  Monsieur  Ho- 
chon. Agathe  was  very  reluctant  to  harass  her  brother. 
Whether  it  were  that  Bridau  thought  the  spoliation  of 
his  wife  in  accordance  with  the  laws  and  customs  of 
Berry,  pr  that,  highminded  as  he  was,  he  shared  the 
magnanimity  of  his  wife,  certain  it  is  that  he  would  not 
listen  to  Roguin,  his  notary,  who  advised  him  to  take 
advantage  of  his  ministerial  position  to  contest  the 
deeds  by  which  the  father  had  deprived  the  daughter  of 
her  legitimate  inheritance.  Husband  and  wife  thus 
tacitly  sanctioned  what  was  done  at  Issoudun.  Never- 
theless, Roguin  had  forced  Bridau  to  reflect  upon  the 
future  interests  of  his  wife  which  were  thus  compro- 
mised. He  saw  that  if  he  died  before  her,  Agathe  would 
be  left  without  property,  and  this  led  him  to  look  into 
his  own  affairs.  He  found  that  between  1793  and  1805 
his  wife  and  he  had  been  obliged  to  use  nearly  thirty 
thousand  of  the  fifty  thousand  francs  in  cash  which  old 
Rouget  had  given  to  his  daughter  at  the  time  of  her 
marriage.  He  at  once  invested  the  remaining  twenty 
thousand  in  the  public  funds,  then  quoted  at  forty,  and 
from  this  source  Agathe  received  about  two  thousand 


14  The  Two  Brothers. 

francs  a  year.  As  a  widow,  Madame  Bridau  could  live 
suitably  on  an  income  of  six  thousand  francs.  With 
provincial  good  sense,  she  thought  of  changing  her  resi- 
dence, dismissing  the  footman,  and  keeping  no  servant 
except  a  cook ;  but  her  intimate  friend,  Madame  Des- 
coings,  who  insisted  on  being  considered  her  aunt,  sold 
her  own  establishment  and  came  to  live  with  Agathe, 
turning  the  study  of  the  late  Bridau  into  her  bedroom. 

The  two  widows  clubbed  their  revenues,  and  so  were 
in  possession  of  a  joint  income  of  twelve  thousand  francs 
a  3Tear.  This  seems  a  very  simple  and  natural  proceed- 
ing. But  nothing  in  life  is  more  deserving  of  attention 
than  the  things  that  are  called  natural ;  we  are  on  our 
guard  against  the  unnatural  and  extraordinary.  For 
this  reason,  you  will  find  men  of  experience  —  lawj'ers, 
judges,  doctors,  and  priests — attaching  immense  im- 
portance to  simple  matters  ;  and  they  are  often  thought 
over-scrupulous.  But  the  serpent  amid  flowers  is  one 
of  the  finest  myths  that  antiquity  has  bequeathed  for  the 
guidance  of  our  lives.  How  often  we  hear  fools,  trying 
to  excuse  themselves  in  their  own  e3*es  or  in  the  eyes  of 
others,  exclaiming,  "  It  was  all  so  natural  that  any 
one  would  have  been  taken  in." 

In  1809,  Madame  Descoings,  who  never  told  her  age, 
was  sixty-five.  In  her  heyday  she  had  been  popularly 
called  a  beauty,  and  was  now  one  of  those  rare  women 
whom  time  respects.  She  owed  to  her  excellent  con- 
stitution the  privilege  of  preserving  her  good  looks, 
which,  however,  would  not  bear  close  examination. 
She  was  of  medium  height,  plump,  and  fresh,  with  fine 
shoulders  and  a  rather  rosy  complexion.  Her  blond 
hair,  bordering  on  chestnut,  showed,  in  spite  of  her 
husband's  catastrophe,  not  a  tinge  of  gray.     She  loved 


The  Two  Brothers.  15 

good  cheer,  and  liked  to  concoct  nice  little  made  dishes  ; 
vet,  fond  as  she  was  of  eating,  she  also  adored  the  the- 
atre and  cherished  a  vice  which  she  wrapped  in  impene- 
trable mystery  —  she  bought  into  lotteries.  Can  that 
be  the  ^abyss  of  which  mythology  warns  us  under  the 
fable  of  the  Dana'ides  and  their  cask?  Madame  Des- 
coings,  like  other  women  who  are  luck}-  enough  to  keep 
young  for  many  years,  spent  rather  too  much  upon  her 
dress  ;  but  aside  from  these  trifling  defects  she  was 
the  pleasantest  of  women  to  live  with.  Of  every  one's 
opinion,  never  opposing  anybody,  her  kindly  and  com- 
municative gayet}'gave  pleasure  to  all.  She  had,  more- 
over, a  Parisian  quality  which  charmed  the  retired  clerks 
and  elderly  merchants  of  her  circle,  —  she  could  take 
and  give  a  jest.  If  she  did  not  marry  a  third  time  it 
was  no  doubt  the  fault  of  the  times.  During  the  wars 
of  the  Empire,  marrying  men  found  rich  and  handsome 
girls  too  easily  to  trouble  themselves  about  women  of 
sixty. 

Madame  Descoings,  always  anxious  to  cheer  Madame 
Bridau,  often  took  the  latter  to  the  theatre,  or  to  drive  ; 
prepared  excellent  little  dinners  for  her  delectation,  and 
even  tried  to  marry  her  to  her  own  son  b\T  her  first  hus- 
band, Bixiou.  Alas !  to  do  this,  she  was  forced  to 
reveal  to  Agathe  a  terrible  secret,  carefully  kept  by  her, 
hy  her  late  husband,  and  by  her  notarj*.  The  young  and 
beautiful  Madame  Descoings,  who  passed  for  thirty-six 
years  old,  had  a  son  who  was  thirty-five,  named  Bixiou, 
already  a  widower,  a  major  in  the  Twentj'-fourth  Infan- 
tiy,  who  subsequently  perished  at  Lutzen,  leaving  be- 
hind him  an  only  son.  Madame  Descoings,  who  only 
saw  her  grandson  secretly,  gave  out  that  he  was  the  son. 
of  the  first  wife  of  her  first  husband.     The  revelation 


16  The  Two  Brothers. 

was  partly  a  prudential  act ;  for  this  grandson  was  being 
educated  with  Madame  Bridau's  sons  at  the  Imperial 
Lyceum,  where  he  had  a  half-scholarship.  The  lad, 
who  was  clever  and  shrewd  at  school,  soon  after  made 
himself  a  great  reputation  as  draughtsman  and  designer, 
and  also  as  a  wit. 

Agathe,  who  lived  only  for  her  children,  declined  to 
re- many,  as  much  from  good  sense  as  from  fidelity  to 
her  husband.  But  it  is  easier  for  a  woman  to  be  a  good 
wife  than  to  be  a  good  mother.  A  widow  has  two  tasks 
before  her,  whose  duties  clash  :  she  is  a  mother,  and  yet 
she  must  exercise  parental  authorit}'.  Few  women  are 
firm  enough  to  understand  and  practise  this  double  duty. 
Thus  it  happened  that  Agathe,  notwithstanding  her  man}' 
virtues,  was  the  innocent  cause  of  great  unhappiness. 
In  the  first  place,  through  her  lack  of  intelligence  and 
the  blind  confidence  to  which  such  noble  natures  are 
prone,  Agathe  fell  a  victim  to  Madame  Descoings,  who 
brought  a  terrible  misfortune  on  the  family.  That 
worthy  soul  was  nursing  up  a  combination  of  three 
numbers  called  a  "  trey"  in  a  lottery,  and  lotteries  give 
no  credit  to  their  customers.  As  manager  of  the  joint 
household,  she  was  able  to  pay  up  her  stakes  with  the 
money  intended  for  their  current  expenses,  and  she 
went  deeper  and  deeper  into  debt,  with  the  hope  of  ulti- 
mately enriching  her  grandson  Bixiou,  her  dear  Agathe, 
and  the  little  Bridaus.  When  the  debts  amounted  to 
ten  thousand  francs,  she  increased  her  stakes,  trusting 
that  her  favorite  trey,  which  had  not  turned  up  in  nine 
3rears,  would  come  at  last,  and  fill  to  overflowing  the 
abysmal  deficit. 

From  that  moment  the  debt  rolled  up  rapidly.     When 
it  reached  twenty  thousand  francs,  Madame  Descoings 


The  Two  Brothers.  17 

lost  her  head,  still  failing  to  win  the  tre}-.  She  tried 
to  mortgage  her  own  property  to  repay  her  niece,  but 
Roguin,  who  was  her  notaiy,  showed  her  the  impossi- 
bility of  carrying  out  that  honorable  intention.  The  late 
Doctor  Rouget  had  laid  hold  of  the  property  of  his 
brother-in-law  after  the  grocer's  execution,  and  had,  as 
it  were,  disinherited  Madame  Descoings  by  securing  to 
her  a  life-interest  on  the  property*  of  his  own  son,  Jean- 
Jacques  Rouget.  No  money-lender  would  think  of 
advancing  twenty  thousand  francs  to  a  woman  sixty-six 
years  of  age,  on  an  annuity  of  about  four  thousand,  at 
a  period  when  ten  per  cent  could  easily  be  got  for  an 
investment.  So  one  morning  Madame  Descoings  fell 
at  the  feet  of  her  niece,  and  with  sobs  confessed  the 
state  of  things.  Madame  Bridau  did  not  reproach  her  ; 
she  sent  away  the  footman  and  cook,  sold  all  but  the 
bare  necessaries  of  her  furniture,  sold  also  three  fourths 
of  her  government  funds,  paid  off  the  debts,  and  bade 
farewell  to  her  appartement. 


18  The  Two  Brothers. 


II. 


One  of  the  worst  corners  in  all  Paris  is  undoubtedly 
that  part  of  the  rue  Mazarin  which  lies  between  the  rue 
Guenegard  and  its  junction  with  the  rue  de  Seine,  be- 
hind the  palace  of  the  Institute.  The  high  gray  walls 
of  the  college  and  of  the  library  which  Cardinal  Mazarin 
presented  to  the  city  of  Paris,  and  which  the  French 
Academy  was  in  after-days  to  inhabit,  cast  chill  shad- 
ows over  this  angle  of  the  street,  where  the  sun  seldom 
shines,  and  the  north  wind  blows.  The  poor  ruined 
widow  came  to  live  on  the  third  floor  of  a  house  stand- 
ing at  this  damp,  dark,  cold  corner.  Opposite,  rose  the 
Institute  buildings,  in  which  were  the  dens  of  ferocious 
animals  known  to  the  bourgeoisie  under  the  name  of  ar- 
tist,—  under  that  of  tyro,  or  rajnn,  in  the  studios.  Into 
these  dens  they  enter  rapins,  but  they  ma}'  come  forth 
prix  de  Borne.  The  transformation  does  not  take  place 
without  extraordinary  uproar  and  disturbance  at  the 
time  of  year  when  the  examinations  are  going  on,  and 
the  competitors  are  shut  up  in  their  cells.  To  win  a  prize, 
they  were  obliged,  within  a  given  time,  to  make,  if  a 
sculptor,  a  cla}'  model;  if  a  painter,  a  picture  such  as 
may  be  seen  at  the  Ecole  des  Beaux- Arts ;  if  a  musi- 
cian, a  cantata ;  if  an  architect,  the  plans  for  a  public 
building.  At  the  time  when  we  are  penning  the  words, 
this  menagerie  has  been  removed  from  these  cold  and 
cheerless  buildings,  and  taken  to  the  elegant  Palais  des 
Beaux- Arts,  which  stands  near  by. 


The  Two  Brothers.  19 

From  the  windows  of  Madame  Bridau's  new  abode, 
a  glance  could  penetrate  the  depths  of  those  melan- 
choly barred  cages.  To  the  north,  the  view  was  shut 
in  1)}T  the  dome  of  the  Institute  ;  looking  up  the  street, 
the  only  distraction  to  the  eye  was  a  file  of  hackney- 
coaches,  which  stood  at  the  upper  end  of  the  rue  Maz- 
arin.  After  a  while,  the  widow  put  boxes  of  earth  in 
front  of  her  windows,  and  cultivated  those/aerial  gar- 
dens that  police  regulations  forbid,  though  their  vegeta- 
ble products  purify  the  atmosphere.  The  house,  which 
backed  up  against  another  fronting  on  the  rue  de  Seine, 
was  necessarily  shallow,  and  the  staircase  wound  round 
upon  itself.  The  third  floor  was  the  last.  Three  win- 
dows to  three  rooms,  namety,  a  dining-room,  a  small 
salon,  and  a  chamber  on  one  side  of  the  landing ;  on 
the  other,  a  little  kitchen,  and  two  single  rooms  ;  above, 
an  immense  garret  without  partitions.  Madame  Bridau 
chose  this  lodging  for  three  reasons :  economy,  for  it 
cost  only  four  hundred  francs  a  3*ear,  so  that  she  took 
a  lease  of  it  for  nine  }Tears ;  proximit}7  to  her  sons' 
school,  the  Imperial  Lyceum  being  at  a  short  distance  ; 
thirdly,  because  it  was  in  the  quarter  to  which  she 
was  used. 

The  inside  of  the  appartement  was  in  keeping  with  the 
general  look  of  the  house.  The  dining-room,  hung 
with  a  yellow  paper  covered  with  little  green  flowers,  and 
floored  with  tiles  that  were  not  glazed,  contained  noth- 
ing that  was  not  strictly  necessa^,  —  namely,  a  table, 
two  sideboards,  and  six  chairs,  brought  from  the  other 
appartement.  The  salon  was  adorned  with  an  Aubusson 
carpet  given  to  Bridau  when  the  ministry  of  the  interior 
was  refurnished.  To  the  furniture  of  this  room  the 
widow  added  one  of  those  common  mahogany  sofas 


20  TJie  Two  Brothers. 

with  Egyptian  heads  that  Jacob  Desmalter  manufactured 
D37  the  gross  in  1806,  covering  them  with  a  silken  green 
stuff  bearing  a  design  of  white  geometric  circles.  Above 
this  piece  of  furniture  hung  a  portrait  of  Bridau,  done 
in  pastel  by  the  hand  of  an  amateur,  which  at  once  at- 
tracted the  eye.  Though  art  might  have  something  to 
say  against  it,  no  one  could  fail  to  recognize  the  firm- 
ness of  the  noble  and  obscure  citizen  upon  that  brow. 
The  serenity  of  the  eyes,  gentle,  3-et  proud,  was  well 
given ;  the  sagacious  mind,  to  which  the  prudent  lips 
bore  testimonj',  the  frank  smile,  the  atmosphere  of  the 
man  of  whom  the  Emperor  had  said,  "  Justum  et  tena- 
cem"  had  all  been  caught,  if  not  with  talent,  at  least 
with  fidelity.  Studying  that  face,  an  observer  could 
see  that  the  man  had  done  his  dut}\  His  countenance 
bore  signs  of  the  incorruptibility  which  we  attribute  to 
several  men  who  served  the  Republic.  On  the  opposite 
wall,  over  a  card-table,  flashed  a  picture  of  the  Emperor 
in  brilliant  colors,  done  by  Vernet ;  Napoleon  was  rid- 
ing rapidly,  attended  by  his  escort. 

Agathe  had  bestowed  upon  herself  two  large  bird- 
cages ;  one  filled  with  canaries,  the  other  with  Java 
sparrows.  She  had  given  herself  up  to  this  juvenile 
fancy  since  the  loss  of  her  husband,  irreparable  to  her, 
as,  in  fact,  it  was  to  many  others.  By  the  end  of  three 
months,  her  widowed  chamber  had  become  what  it  was 
destined  to  remain  until  the  appointed  da}T  when  she 
left  it  forever,  —  a  litter  of  confusion  which  words  are 
powerless  to  describe.  Cats  were  domiciled  on  the 
sofas.  The  canaries,  occasionally  let  loose,  left  their 
commas  on  the  furniture.  The  poor  dear  woman  scat- 
tered little  heaps  of  millet  and  bits  of  chickweed  about 
the  room,  and  put  tidbits  for  the  cats  in  broken  saucers. 


The  Two  Brothers.  21 

Garments  lay  everywhere.  The  room  breathed  of  the 
provinces  and  of  constancy.  Everything  that  once  be- 
longed to  Bridau  was  scrupulously  preserved.  Even 
the  implements  in  his  desk  received  the  care  which  the 
widow  of  a  paladin  may  have  bestowed  upon  her  hus- 
band's armor.  One  slight  detail  will  serve  to  bring  the 
tender  devotion  of  this  woman  before  the  reader's  mind. 
She  had  wrapped  up  a  pen  and  sealed  the  package,  on 
which  she  wrote  these  words,  "Last  pen  used  by  my 
dear  husband."  The  cup  from  which  he  drank  his  last 
draught  was  on  the  fireplace ;  caps  and  false  hair  were 
tossed,  at  a  later  period,  over  the  glass  globes  which 
covered  these  precious  relics.  After  Bridau's  death 
not  a  trace  of  coquetry,  not  even  a  woman's  ordinary 
care  of  her  person,  was  left  in  the  young  widow  of 
thirty-five.  Parted  from  the  only  man  she  had  known, 
esteemed,  and  loved,  from  one  who  never  had  caused 
her  the  slightest  unhappiness,  she  was  no  longer  con- 
scious of  her  womanhood ;  all  things  were  as  nothing 
to  her ;  she  no  longer  even  thought  of  her  dress. 
Nothing  was  ever  more  simply  done  or  more  complete 
than  this  laying  down  of  conjugal  happiness  and  per- 
sonal charm.  Some  human  beings  obtain  through  love 
the  power  of  transferring  their  self — their  I  —  to  the 
being  of  another ;  and  when  death  takes  that  otner,  no 
life  of  their  own  is  possible  for  them. 

Agathe,  who  now  lived  only  for  her  children,  was 
infinitely  sad  at  the  thought  of  the  privations  this 
financial  ruin  would  bring  upon  them.  From  the  time 
of  her  removal  to  the  rue  Mazarin  a  shade  of  mel- 
ancholy came  upon  her  face,  which  made  it  very 
touching.  She  hoped  a  little  in  the  Emperor;  but 
the  Emperor  at  that  time  could  do  no  more  than  he 


22  The  Two  Brothers. 

was  already  doing  ;  he  was  giving  three  hundred  francs 
a  year  to  each  child  from  his  privy  purse,  besides  the 
scholarships. 

As  for  the  brilliant  Descoings,  she  occupied  an  ap- 
partement  on  the  second  floor  similar  to  that  of  her  niece 
above  her.  She  had  made  Madame  Bridau  an  assign- 
ment of  three  thousand  francs  out  of  her  annuity. 
Roguin,  the  notary,  attended  to  this  in  Madame  Bridau's 
interest ;  but  it  would  take  seven  years  of  such  slow 
repayment  to  make  good  the  loss.  The  Descoings,  thus 
reduced  to  an  income  of  twelve  hundred  francs,  lived 
with  her  niece  in  a  small  waj\  These  excellent  but 
timid  creatures  emplo3'ed  a  worn an-of-all- work  for  the 
morning  hours  only.  Madame  Descoings,  who  liked  to 
cook,  prepared  the  dinner.  In  the  evenings  a  few  old 
friends,  persons  empkn'ed  at  the  ministry  who  owed 
their  places  to  Bridau,  came  for  a  game  of  cards  witli 
the  two  widows.  Madame  Descoings  still  cherished  her 
trey,  which  she  declared  was  obstinate  about  turning  up. 
She  expected,  b}r  one  grand  stroke  of  luck,  to  repa}' 
the  enforced  loan  she  had  made  upon  her  niece.  She 
was  fonder  of  the  little  Bridaus  than  she  was  of  her 
grandson  Bixiou,  —  partly  from  a  sense  of  the  wrong  she 
had  done  them,  partly  because  she  felt  the  kindness  of 
her  niece,  who,  under  her  worst  deprivations,  never 
uttered  a  word  of  reproach.  So  Philippe  and  Joseph 
were  cossetted,  and  the  old  gambler  in  the  Imperial 
Lottery  of  France  (like  others  who  have  a  vice  or  a 
weakness  to  atone  for)  cooked  them  nice  little  dinners 
with  plent3T  of  sweets.  Later  on,  Philippe  and  Joseph 
could  extract  from  her  pocket,  with  the  utmost  facil- 
ity, small  sums  of  money,  which  the  younger  used  for 
pencils,  paper,   charcoal  and  prints,  the  elder  to  buy 


The  Two  Brothers.  23 

tennis-shoes,  marbles,  twine,  and  pocket-knives.  Ma- 
dame Descoings's  passion  forced  her  to  be  content  with 
fifty  francs  a  month  for  her  domestic  expenses,  so  as 
to  gamble  with  the  rest. 

On  the  other  hand,  Madame  Briclau,  motherly  love, 
kept  her  expenses  down  to  the  same  sum.  By  way 
of  penance  for  her  former  over-confidence,  she  heroi- 
cally cut  off  her  own  little  enjoyments.  As  with 
other  timid  souls  of  limited  intelligence,  one  shock 
to  her  feelings  rousing  her  distrust  led  her  to  exag- 
gerate a  defect  in  her  character  until  it  assumed  the 
consistency  of  a  virtue.  The  Emperor,  she  said  to 
herself,  might  forget  them ;  he  might  die  in  battle ; 
her  pension,  at  any  rate,  ceased  with  her  life.  She 
shuddered  at  the  risk  her  children  ran  of  being  left 
alone  in  the  world  without  means.  Quite  incapable  of 
understanding  Roguin  when  he  explained  to  her  that  in 
seven  years  Madame  Descoings's  assignment  would 
replace  the  mone}T  she  had  sold  out  of  the  Funds,  she 
persisted  in  trusting  neither  the  notary  nor  her  aunt, 
nor  even  the  government ;  she  believed  in  nothing  but 
herself  and  the  privations  she  was  practising.  By  lay- 
ing aside  three  thousand  francs  every  }~ear  from  her 
pension,  she  would  have  thirty  thousand  francs  at  the 
end  of  ten  years ;  which  would  give  fifteen  hundred  a 
year  to  her  children.  At  thirty-six,  she  might  expect 
to  live  twenty  3'ears  longer;  and  if  she  kept  to  the 
same  system  of  econoni}T  she  might  leave  to  each  child 
enough  for  the  bare  necessaries  of  life. 

Thus  the  two  widows  passed  from  hollow  opulence 
to  voluntary  poverty,  —  one  under  the  pressure  of  a 
vice,  the  other  through  the  promptings  of  the  purest 
virtue.     None   of  these    petty   details   are   useless   in 


24  The  Two  Brothers. 

teaching  the  lesson  which  ought  to  be  learned  from  this 
present  history,  drawn  as  it  is  from  the  most  common- 
place interests  of  life,  but  whose  bearings  are,  it  may 
be,  only  the  more  widespread.  The  view  from  the 
windows  into  the  student  dens ;  the  tumult  of  the 
rapins  below ;  the  necessity  of  looking  up  at  the  sky 
to  escape  the  miserable  sights  of  the  damp  angle  of  the 
street;  the  presence  of  that  portrait,  full  of  soul  and 
grandeur  despite  the  workmanship  of  an  amateur 
painter ;  the  sight  of  the  rich  colors,  now  old  and  har- 
monious, in  that  calm  and  placid  home  ;  the  preference 
of  the  mother  for  her  eldest  child ;  her  opposition  to 
the  tastes  of  the  younger ;  in  short,  the  whole  body  of 
facts  and  circumstances  which  make  the  preamble  of 
this  histoiy  are  perhaps  the  generating  causes  to  which 
we  owe  Joseph  Bridau,  one  of  the  greatest  painters  of 
the  modern  French  school  of  art. 

Philippe,  the  elder  of  the  two  sons,  was  strikingly 
like  his  mother.  Though  a  blond  lad,  with  blue  eyes, 
he  had  the  daring  look  which  is  readily  taken  for 
intrepidity  and  courage.  Old  Claparon,  who  entered 
the  ministry  of  the  interior  at  the  same  time  as  Bridau, 
and  was  one  of  the  faithful  friends  who  p laved  whist 
every  night  with  the  two  widows,  used  to  say  of  Philippe 
two  or  three  times  a  month,  giving  him  a  tap  on  the 
cheek,  "Here's  a  }'oung  rascal  who'll  stand  to  his 
guns  !  "  The  boy,  thus  stimulated,  naturally  and  out  of 
bravado,  assumed  a  resolute  manner.  That  turn  once 
given  to  his  character,  he  became  very  adroit  at  all 
bodily  exercises ;  his  fights  at  the  Lyceum  taught  him 
the  endurance  and  contempt  for  pain  which  lays  the 
foundation  of  military  valor.  He  also  acquired,  very 
naturally,  a  distaste  for  study ;  public  education  being 


The  Two  Brothers.  25 

unable  to  solve  the  difficult  problem  of  developing  pari 
passu  the  body  and  the  mind. 

Agathe  believed  that  the  purely  physical  resemblance 
which  Philippe  bore  to  her  carried  with  it  a  moral 
likeness  ;  and  she  confidently  expected  him  to  show  at 
a  future  day  her  own  delicac}7  of  feeling,  heightened 
by  the  vigor  of  manhood.  Philippe  was  fifteen  years 
old  when  his  mother  moved  into  the  melancholy  ap- 
partement  in  the  rue  Mazarin ;  and  the  winning  ways 
of  a  lad  of  that  age  went  far  to  confirm  the  maternal 
beliefs.  Joseph,  three  jTears  j'ounger,  was  like  his 
father,  but  only  on  the  defective  side.  In  the  first 
place,  his  thick  black  hair  was  alwa}rs  in  disorder,  no 
matter  what  pains  were  taken  with  it ;  while  Philippe's, 
notwithstanding  his  vivacity,  was  invariably  neat. 
Then,  by  some  mysterious  fatalu\y,  Joseph  could  not 
keep  his  clothes  clean ;  dress  him  in  new  clothes,  and 
he  immediately  made  them  look  like  old  ones.  The 
elder,  on  the  other  hand,  took  care  of  his  things  out  of 
mere  vanity.  Unconsciously,  the  mother  acquired  a 
habit  of  scolding  Joseph  and  holding  up  his  brother 
as  an  example  to  him.  Agathe  did  not  treat  the 
two  children  alike ;  when  she  went  to  fetch  them 
from  school,  the  thought  in  her  mind  as  to  Joseph 
always  was,  "  What  sort  of  state  shall  I  find  him  in?  " 
These  trifles  drove  her  heart  into  the  gulf  of  maternal 
preference. 

No  one  among  the  very  ordinar}7  persons  who  made 
the  society  of  the  two  widows  —  neither  old  Du  Bruel 
nor  old  Claparon,  nor  Desroches  the  father,  nor  even 
the  Abbe  Loraux,  Agathe's  confessor  —  noticed  Joseph's 
facult3T  for  observation.  Absorbed  in  the  line  of  his 
own  tastes,   the   future  colorist   paid   no  attention   to 


26  The  Two  Brothers. 

anything  that  concerned  himself.  During  his  child- 
hood this  disposition  was  so  like  torpor  that  his  father 
grew  uneas}7  about  him.  The  remarkable  size  of  the 
head  and  the  width  of  the  brow  roused  a  fear  that  the 
child  might  be  liable  to  water  on  the  brain.  His  dis- 
tressful face,  whose  originalit}7  was  thought  ugliness  b}r 
those  who  had  no  eye  for  the  moral  value  of  a  coun- 
tenance, wore  rather  a  sullen  expression  during  his 
childhood.  The  features,  which  developed  later  in  life, 
were  pinched,  and  the  close  attention  the  child  paid  to 
what  went  on  about  him  still  further  contracted  them. 
Philippe  flattered  his  mother's  vanity,  but  Joseph  won 
no  compliments.  Philippe  sparkled  with  the  clever 
sayings  and  lively  answers  that  lead  parents  to  believe 
their  bo\'s  will  turn  out  remarkable  men ;  Joseph  was 
taciturn,  and  a  dreamer.  The  mother  hoped  great 
things  of  Philippe,  and  expected  nothing  of  Joseph. 

Joseph's  predilection  for  art  was  developed  b}'  a  very 
commonplace  incident.  During  the  Easter  holidays  of 
1812,  as  he  was  coming  home  from  a  walk  in  the  Toil- 
eries  with  his  brother  and  Madame  Descoings,  he  saw 
a  pupil  drawing  a  caricature  of  some  professor  on  the 
wall  of  the  Institute,  and  stopped  short  with  admiration 
at  the  charcoal  sketch,  which  was  full  of  satire.  The 
next  day  the  child  stood  at  the  window  watching  the 
pupils  as  they  entered  the  building  by  the  door  on 
the  rue  Mazarin  ;  then  he  ran  down  stairs  and  slipped 
furtivety  into  the  long  courtyard  of  the  Institute,  full 
of  statues,  busts,  half-finished  marbles,  plasters,  and 
baked  clays ;  at  all  of  which  he  gazed  feverishly,  for  his 
instinct  was  awakened,  and  his  vocation  stirred  within 
him.  He  entered  a  room  on  the  ground-floor,  the  door 
of  which  was  half  open ;  there  he  saw  a  dozen  young 


The  Two  Brothers.  27 

men  drawing  from  a  statue,  who  at  once  began  to  make 
fun  of  him. 

"Hi!  little  one,"  cried  the  first  to  see  him,  taking 
the  crumbs  of  his  bread  and  scattering  them  at  the 
child. 

"Whose  child  is  he?" 

"  Goodness,  how  ugly  !  " 

For  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Joseph  stood  still  and  bore 
the  brunt  of  much  teasing  in  the  atelier  of  the  great 
sculptor,  Chaudet.  But  after  laughing  at  him  for  a 
time,  the  pupils  were  struck  with  his  persistency  and 
with  the  expression  of  his  face.  They  asked  him  what 
he  wanted.  Joseph  answered  that  he  wished  to  know 
how  to  draw  ;  thereupon  the}'  all  encouraged  him.  Won 
b}'  such  friendliness,  the  child  told  thern  he  was  Ma- 
dame Bridau's  son. 

"Oh!  if  you  are  Madame  Bridau's  son,"  the}7  cried, 
from  all  parts  of  the  room,  "you  will  certainly  be  a 
great  man.  Long  live  the  son  of  Madame  Bridau  !  Is 
your  mother  pretty?  If  you  are  sample  of  her,  she 
must  be  stylish  !  " 

"Ha!  you  want  to  be  an  artist?"  said  the  eldest 
pupil,  coming  up  to  Joseph,  "but  don't  you  know  that 
that  requires  pluck ;  you  '11  have  to  bear  all  sorts  of 
trials,  —  }*es,  trials, — enough  to  break  your  legs  and 
arms  and  soul  and  body.  All  the  fellows  you  see  here 
have  gone  through  regular  ordeals.  That  one,  for  in- 
stance, he  went  seven  da}Ts  without  eating !  Let  me 
see,  now,  if  }-ou  can  be  an  artist." 

He  took  one  of  the  child's  arms  and  stretched  it 
straight  up  in  the  air ;  then  he  placed  the  other  arm  as 
if  Joseph  were  in  the  act  of  delivering  a  blow  with  his 
fist. 


28  The  Two  Brothers. 

"Now  that's  what  we  call  the  telegraph  trial," 
said  the  pupil.  "If  3*011  can  stand  like  that,  without 
lowering  or  changing  the  position  of  3*0111-  arms  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  then  30U  '11  have  proved  3'ourself  a 
plucky  one." 

"Courage,  little  one,  courage!"  cried  all  the  rest. 
"  You  must  suffer  if  you  want  to  be  an  artist." 

Joseph,  with  the  good  faith  of  his  thirteen  3-ears, 
stood  motionless  for  five  minutes,  all  the  pupils  gazing 
solemnly  at  him. 

"  There  !  you  are  moving,"  cried  one. 

"  Steady,  stead3*,  confound  3*ou  !  "  cried  another. 

"The  Emperor  Napoleon  stood  a  whole  month  as 
you  see  him  there,"  said  a  third,  pointing  to  the  fine 
statue  b3T  Chaudet,  which  was  in  the  room. 

That  statue,  which  represents  the  Emperor  standing 
with  the  imperial  sceptre  in  his  hand,  was  torn  down  in 
1814  from  the  column  it  surmounted  so  well. 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  the  sweat  stood  in  drops 
on  Joseph's  forehead.  At  that  moment  a  bald-headed 
little  man,  pale  and  sickly  in  appearance,  entered  the 
atelier,  where  respectful  silence  reigned  at  once. 

"What  are  you  about,  3*ou  urchins?"  he  exclaimed, 
as  he  looked  at  the  youthful  martyr. 

"  That  is  a  good  little  fellow,  who  is  posing,"  said  the 
tall  pupil  who  had  placed  Joseph. 

"Are  not  you  ashamed  to  torture  a  poor  child  in 
that  way?"  said  Chaudet,  lowering  Joseph's  arms. 
" How  long  have  30U  been  standing  there?"  he  asked 
the  boy,  giving  him  a  friendly  little  pat  on  the  cheek. 

"  A  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  What  brought  you  here?" 

"  I  want  to  be  an  artist." 


The  Two  Brothers.  29 

44  Where  do  3*011  belong?  where  do  you  come  from?  " 

"From  mamma's  house." 

44  Oh  !  mamma  !  "  cried  the  pupils. 

"  Silence  at  the  easels  !  "  cried  Chaudet.  "  Who  is 
your  mamma?" 

"She  is  Madame  Bridau.  My  papa,  who  is  dead, 
was  a  friend  of  the  Emperor ;  and  if  you  will  teach  me 
to  draw,  the  Emperor  will  pa\r  all  you  ask  for  it." 

44  His  father  was  head  of  a  department  at  the  ministry 
of  the  interior,"  exclaimed  Chaudet,  struck  b}r  a  recol- 
lection.   "  So  you  want  to  be  an  artist,  at  your  age? " 

44  Yes,  monsieur." 

44  Well,  come  here  just  as  much  as  you  like ;  we  '11 
amuse  you.  Give  him  a  board,  and  paper,  and  chalks, 
and  let  him  alone.  You  are  to  know,  you  young 
scamps,  that  his  father  did  me  a  service.  Here,  Corde- 
a-puits,  go  and  get  some  cakes  and  sugar-plums,"  he 
said  to  the  pupil  who  had  tortured  Joseph',  giving  him 
some  small  change.  "  We  '11  see  if  you  are  to  be  artist 
b}^  the  way  you  gobble  up  the  dainties,"  added  the  sculp- 
tor, chucking  Joseph  under  the  chin. 

Then  he  went  round  examining  the  pupils'  work,  fol- 
lowed by  the  child,  who  looked  and  listened,  and  tried 
to  understand  him.  The  sweets  were  brought,  Chaudet 
himself,  the  child,  and  the  whole  studio  all  had  their 
teeth  in  them  ;  and  Joseph  was  petted  quite  as  much  as 
he  had  been  teased.  The  whole  scene,  in  which  the 
rough  play  and  real  heart  of  artists  were  revealed,  and 
which  the  boy  instinctively  understood,  made  a  great 
impression  upon  his  mind.  The  apparition  of  the  sculp- 
tor, —  for  whom  the  Emperor's  protection  opened  a 
wa}T  to  future  glory,  closed  soon  after  by  his  premature 
death,  —  was  like  a  vision  to  little  Joseph.     The  child 


30  The  Two  Brothers. 

said  nothing  to  his  mother  about  this  adventure,  but  he 
spent  two  hours  every  Sunday  and  every  Thursday  in 
Chaudet's  atelier.  From  that  time  forth,  Madame  Des- 
coings,  who  humored  the  fancies  of  the  two  cherubim, 
kept  Joseph  supplied  with  pencils  and  red  chalks,  prints 
and  drawing-paper.  At  school,  the  future  colorist 
sketched  his  masters,  drew  his  comrades,  charcoaled 
the  dormitories,  and  showed  surprising  assiduity  in  the 
drawing-class.  Lemire,  the  drawing-master,  struck  not 
only  with  the  lad's  inclination  but  also  with  his  actual 
progress,  came  to  tell  Madame  Bridau  of  her  son's  fac- 
ult}T.  Agathe,  like  a  true  provincial,  who  knows  as  little 
of  art  as  she  knows  much  of  housekeeping,  was  terrified. 
When  Lemire  left  her,  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  Ah  !  "  she  cried,  when  Madame  Descoings  wrent  to 
ask  what  was  the  matter.  "  What  is  to  become  of  me  ! 
Joseph,  whom  I  meant  to  make  a  government  clerk, 
whose  career  was  all  marked  out  for  him  at  the  ministry 
of  the  interior,  where,  protected  b}r  his  father's  memory, 
he  might  have  risen  to  be  chief  of  a  division  before  he 
was  twenty-five,  he,  my  boy,  he  wants  to  be  a  painter, 
—  a  vagabond  !  I  alwa3's  knew  that  child  would  give 
me  nothing  but  trouble." 

Madame  Descoings  confessed  that  for  several  months 
past  she  had  encouraged  Joseph's  passion,  aiding  and 
abetting  his  Sunday  and  Thursday  visits  to  the  Insti- 
tute. At  the  Salon,  to  which  she  had  taken  him,  the 
little  fellow  had  shown  an  interest  in  the  pictures,  which 
was,  she  declared,  nothing  short  of  miraculous. 

"  If  he  understands  painting  at  thirteen,  1113'  dear," 
she  said,  "your  Joseph  will  be  a  man  of  genius." 

"  Yes ;  and  see  what  genius  did  for  his  father,  — 
killed  him  with  overwork  at  forty ! " 


The  Two  Brothers.  31 

At  the  close  of  autumn,  just  as  Joseph  was  entering 
his  fourteenth  year,  Agathe,  contrary  to  Madame  Des- 
coings's  entreaties,  went  to  see  Chaudet,  and  requested 
that  he  would  eease  to  debauch  her  son.  She  found  the 
sculptor  in  a  blue  smock,  modelling  his  last  statue ;  he 
received  the  widow  of  the  man  who  formerly  had  served 
him  at  a  critical  moment,  rather  roughly  ;  but,  already  at 
death's  door,  he  was  struggling  with  passionate  ardor 
to  do  in  a  few  hours  work  he  could  hardly  have  accom- 
plished in  several  months.  As  Madame  Bridau  entered, 
he  had  just  found  an  effect  long  sought  for,  and  was 
handling  his  tools  and  clay  with  spasmodic  jerks  and 
movements  that  seemed  to  the  ignorant  Agathe  like 
those  of  a  maniac.  At  any  other  time  Chaudet  would 
have  laughed  ;  but  now,  as  he  heard  the  mother  bewail- 
ing the  destiny  he  had  opened  to  her  child,  abusing  art, 
and  insisting  that  Joseph  should  no  longer  be  allowed,  to 
enter  the  atelier,  he  burst  into  a  holy  wrath. 

"  I  was  under  obligations  to  your  deceased  husband  ; 
I  wished  to  help  his  son,  to  watch  his  first  steps  in  the 
noblest  of  all  careers,"  he  cried.  "  Yes,  madame,  learn, 
if  you  do  not  know  it,  that  a  great  artist  is  a  king,  and 
more  than  a  king ;  he  is  happier,  he  is  independent,  he 
lives  as  he  likes,  he  reigns  in  the  world  of  fane}*.  Your 
son  has  a  glorious  future  before  him.  Faculties  like  his 
are  rare  ;  the}'  are  only  disclosed  at  his  age  in  such  beings 
as  the  Giottos,  Raphaels,  Titians,  Rubens,  Murillos,  — 
for,  in  my  opinion,  he  will  make  a  better  painter  than 
sculptor.  God  of  heaven  !  if  I  had  such  a  son,  I  should 
be  as  happy  as  the  Emperor  is  to  have  given  himself 
the  King  of  Rome.  Well,  you  are  mistress  of  your 
child's  fate.  Go  your  own  way,  madame  ;  make  him  a 
fool,  a  miserable  quill-driver,  tie  him  to  a  desk,  and 


32  The  Two  Brothers. 

you  Ve  murdered  him  !  But  I  hope,  in  spite  of  all  jout 
efforts,  that  he  will  stay  an  artist.  A  true  vocation  is 
stronger  than  all  the  obstacles  that  can  be  opposed  to  it. 
Vocation  !  why  the  very  word  means  a  call ;  a}> ,  the 
election  of  God  himself!  You  will  make  your  child 
unhapp3%  that's  all."  He  flung  the  clay  he  no  longer 
needed  violently  into  a  tub,  and  said  to  his  model, 
4k  That  will  do  for  to-day." 

Agathe  raised  her  eyes  and  saw,  in  a  corner  of  the 
atelier  where  her  glance  had  not  before  penetrated,  a 
nude  woman  sitting  on  a  stool,  the  sight  of  whom  drove 
her  awa}T  horrified. 

u  You  are  not  to  have  the  little  Bridau  here  any  more," 
said  Chaudet  to  his  pupils,  "  it  annoys  his  mother." 

"  Eugh  !  "  they  all  cried,  as  Agathe  closed  the  door. 

No  sooner  did  the  students  of  sculpture  and  painting 
find  out  that  Madame  Bridau  did  not  wish  her  son  to 
be  an  artist,  than  their  whole  happiness  centred  on  get- 
ting Joseph  among  them.  In  spite  of  a  promise  not  to 
go  to  the  Institute  which  his  mother  exacted  from  him, 
the  child  often  slipped  into  Regnauld  the  painter's  studio, 
where  he  was  encouraged  to  daub  canvas.  When  tbe 
widow  complained  that  the  bargain  was  not  kept,  Chau- 
det's  pupils  assured  her  that  Regnauld  was  not  Chaudet, 
and  the}-  had  n't  the  bringing  up  of  her  son,  with  other 
impertinences ;  and  the  atrocious  .young  scamps  com- 
posed a  song  with  a  hundred  and  thi^-seven  couplets 
on  Madame  Bridau. 

On  the  evening  of  that  sad  day  Agathe  refused  to  play 
at  cards,  and  sat  on  her  sofa  plunged  in  such  grief  that 
the  tears  stood  in  her  handsome  eyes. 

11  What  is  the  matter,  Madame  Bridau?"  asked  old 
Claparon. 


The  Two  Brothers.  33 

"She  thinks  her  boy  will  have  to  beg  his  bread  be- 
cause he  has  got  the  bump  of  painting,"  said  Madame 
Descoings  ;  "  but,  for  my  part,  I  'm  not  the  least  uneasy 
about  the  future  of  my  step-son,  little  Bixiou,  who  has 
a  passion  for  drawing.     Men  are  born  to  get  on." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  hard  and  severe  Desroches, 
wllo,  in  spite  of  his  talents,  had  never  himself  got  on  to 
the  position  of  assistant-head  of  a  department.  u  Hap- 
pily I  have  only  one  son  ;  otherwise,  with  my  eighteen 
hundred  francs  a  year,  and  a  wife  who  makes  barely 
twelve  hundred  out  of  her  stamped-paper  office,  I  don't 
know  what  would  become  of  me.  I  have  just  placed  my 
boy  as  under-clerk  to  a  lawyer  ;  he  gets  twenty-five  francs 
a  month  and  his  breakfast.  I  give  him  as  much  more, 
and  he  dines  and  sleeps  at  home.  That 's  all  he  gets  ; 
he  must  manage  for  himself,  but  he  '11  make  his  way.  I 
keep  the  fellow  harder  at  work  than  if  he  were  at  school, 
and  some  da}T  he  will  be  a  barrister.  When  I  give  him 
money  to  go  to  the  theatre,  he  is  as  happy  as  a  king 
and  kisses  me.  Oh,  I  keep  a  tight  hand  on  him,  and  he 
renders  me  an  account  of  all  he  spends.  You  are  too 
good  to  your  children,  Madame  Bridau  ;  if  your  son 
wants  to  go  through  hardships  and  privations,  let  him  ; 
they  '11  make  a  man  of  him." 

"  As  for  my  boy,"  said  Du  Bruel,  a  former  chief  of  a 
division,  who  had  just  retired  on  a  pension,  "he  is  only 
sixteen  ;  his  mother  dotes  on  him  ;  but  I  should  n't  lis- 
ten to  his  choosing  a  profession  at  his  age,  —  a  mere 
fancy,  a  notion  that  may  pass  off.  In  my  opinion,  boys 
should  be  guided  and  controlled." 

"  Ah,  monsieur  !  you  are  rich,  }-ou  are  a  man,  and  you 
have  but  one  son,"  said  Agathe. 

"Faith!"  said  Claparon,  "children  do  tyrannize 
3 


34  The  Two  Brothers. 

over  us —  over  our  hearts,  I  mean.  Mine  makes  me 
furious ;  he  has  dearly  ruined  me,  and  now  I  won't 
have  anything  to  do  with  him  —  it 's  a  sort  of  inde- 
pendenee.  Well,  he  is  the  happier  for  it,  and  so  am  I. 
That  fellow  was  partly  the  cause  of  his  mother's  death. 
He  chose  to  be  a  commercial  traveller ;  and  the  trade 
just  suited  him,  for  he  was  no  sooner  in  the  house  tnan 
he  wanted  to  be  out  of  it ;  he  could  n't  keep  in  one 
place,  and  he  would  n't  learn  anything.  All  I  ask  of 
God  is  that  I  may  die  before  he  dishonors  my  name. 
Those  who  have  no  children  lose  many  pleasures,  but 
they  escape  great  sufferings." 

"And  these  men  are  fathers!"  thought  Agathe, 
weeping  anew. 

"  What  I  am  trying  to  show  30U,  m}-  dear  Madame 
Bridau,  is  that  you  had  better  let  yotiT  boy  be  a 
painter ;   if  not,  you  will  only  waste  your  time." 

"  If  3'ou  were  able  to  coerce  him,"  said  the  sour  Des- 
roches,  "  I  should  advise  you  to  oppose  his  tastes  ;  but 
weak  as  I  see  3011  are,  you  had  better  let  him  daub  if 
he  likes." 

"Console  yourself,  Agathe,"  said  Madame  Descoings, 
"Joseph  will  turn  out  a  great  man." 
,  After  this  discussion,  which  was  like  all  discussions,  the 
widow's  friends  united  in  giving  her  one  and  the  same  ad- 
vice ;  which  advice  did  not  in  the  least  relieve  her  anxie- 
ties.    The3T  advised  her  to  let  Joseph  follow  his  bent. 

"If  he  doesn't  turn  out  a  genius,"  said  Du  Bruel, 
who  always  tried  to  please  Agathe,  "  you  can  then  get 
him  into  some  government  office." 

When  Madame  Descoings  accompanied  the  old  clerks 
to  the  door  she  assured  them,  at  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
that  the3*  were  "  Grecian  sages." 


The  Two  Brothers.  35 

"  Madame  Bridan  ought  to  be  glad  her  son  is  willing 
to  do  anything,"  said  Claparon. 

"Besides,"  said  Desroches,  "  if  God  preserves  the 
Emperor,  Joseph  will  always  be  looked  after.  Why 
should  she  worry?" 

"She  is  timid  about  everything  that  concerns  her 
children,"  answered  Madame  Descoings.  "Well,  my 
good  girl,"  she  said,  returning  to  Agathe,  "you  see 
they  are  unanimous  ;  why  are  you  still  crying?" 

"If  it  was  Philippe,  I  should  have  no  anxiety.  But 
you  don't  know  what  goes  on  in  that  atelier  ;  the\<  have 
naked  women !  " 

"I  hope  they  keep  good  fires,"  said  Madame  Des- 
coings. 

A  few  da3'S  after  this,  the  disasters  of  the  retreat  from 
Moscow  became  known.  Napoleon  returned  to  Paris 
to  organize  fresh  troops,  and  to  ask  further  sacrifices 
from  the  country.  The  poor  mother  was  then  plunged 
into  very  different  anxieties.  Philippe,  who  was  tired 
of  school,  wanted  to  serve  under  the  Emperor ;  he  saw 
a  review  at  the  Tuileries,  —  the  last  Napoleon  ever  held, 
—  and  he  became  infatuated  with  the  idea  of  a  soldier's 
life.  In  those  days  militaiy  splendor,  the  show  of  uni- 
forms, the  authority  of  epaulets,  offered  irresistible  se- 
ductions to  a  certain  style  of  youth.  Philippe  thought 
he  had  the  same  vocation  for  the  army  that  his  brother 
Joseph  showed  for  art.  Without  his  mother's  knowl- 
edge, he  wrote  a  petition  to  the  Emperor,  which  read  as 
follows :  — 

Sire,  —  I  am  the  son  of  your  Bridau ;  eighteen  years  of 
age,  five  feet  six  inches;  I  have  good  legs,  a  good  constitu- 
tion, and  I  wish  to  be  one  of  your  soldiers.  I  ask  you  to  let 
me  enter  the  army,  etc. 


36  The  Two  Brothers. 

Within  twenty-four  hours,  the  Emperor  had  sent 
Philippe  to  the  Imperial  I/yceum  at  Saint-C3'r,  and  six 
months  later,  in  November,  1813,  he  appointed  him 
sub-lieutenant  in  a  regiment  of  cavalry.  Philippe  spent 
the  greater  part  of  that  winter  in  cantonments,  but  as 
soon  as  he  knew  how  to  ride  a  horse  he  was  dispatched 
to  the  front,  and  went  eagerly.  During  the  campaign 
in  France  he  was  made  a  lieutenant,  after  an  affair  at 
the  outposts  where  his  bravery  had  saved  his  colonel's 
life.  The  Emperor  named  him  captain  at  the  battle  of 
La  Fere-Champenoise,  and  took  him  on  his  staff.  In- 
spired by  such  promotion,  Philippe  won  the  cross  at 
Montereau.  He  witnessed  Napoleon's  farewell  at  Fon- 
tainebleau,  raved  at  the  sight,  and  refused  to  serve  the 
Bourbons.  When  he  returned  to  his  mother,  in  July, 
1814,  he  found  her  ruined. 

Joseph's  scholarship  was  withdrawn  after  the  holi- 
days, and  Madame  Bridau,  whose  pension  came  from 
the  Emperor's  privy  purse,  vainly  entreated  that  it  might 
be  inscribed  on  the  rolls  of  the  ministrj'  of  the  interior. 
Joseph,  more  of  a  painter  than  ever,  was  delighted 
with  the  turn  of  events,  and  entreated  his  mother  to 
let  him  go  to  Monsieur  Regnauld,  promising  to  earn 
his  own  living.  He  declared  he  was  quite  sufficiently 
advanced  in  the  second  class  to  get  on  without  rhet- 
oric. Philippe,  a  captain  at  nineteen  and  decorated, 
who  had,  moreover,  served  the  Emperor  as  aide-de- 
camp in  two  battles,  flattered  the  mother's  vanity  im- 
mensely. Coarse,  blustering,  and  without  real  merit 
be3'ond  the  vulgar  bravenr  of  a  cavalr\T  officer,  he  was 
to  her  mind  a  man  of  genius  ;  whereas  Joseph,  puny 
and  sickly,  with  unkempt  hair  and  absent  mind,  seek- 
ing peace,  loving  quiet,  and   dreaming  of  an  artist's 


The  Two  Brothers.  37 

glory,  would  only  bring  her,  she  thought,  worries  and 
anxieties. 

The  winter  of  1814-1815  was  a  lucky  one  for  Joseph. 
Secretly  encouraged  by  Madame  Descoings  and  Bixiou, 
a  pupil  of  Gros,  he  went  to  work  in  the  celebrated  ate- 
lier of  that  painter,  whence  a  vast  variety  of  talent 
issued  in  its  day,  and  there  he  formed  the  closest  inti- 
macy with  Schinner.  The  return  from  Elba  came ;  Cap- 
tain Bridau  joined  the  Emperor  at  Lyons,  accompanied 
him  to  the  Tuileries,  and  was  appointed  to  the  com- 
mand of  a  squadron  in  the  dragoons  of  the  Guard.  Af- 
ter the  battle  of  Waterloo  —  in  which  he  was  slightly 
wounded,  and  where  he  won  the  cross  of  an  officer  of 
the  Legion  of  honor — he  happened  to  be  near  Marshal 
Davoust  at  Saint-Denis,  and  was  not  with  the  army  of 
the  Loire.  In  consequence  of  this,  and  through  Da- 
voust's  intercession,  his  cross  and  his  rank  were  secured 
to  him,  but  he  was  placed  on  half-pay. 

Joseph,  anxious  about  his  future,  studied  all  through 
this  period  with  an  ardor  which  several  times  made 
him  ill  in  the  midst  of  these  tumultuous  events. 

"It  is  the  smell  of  the  paints,"  Agathe  said  to  Ma- 
dame Descoings.  "  He  ought  to  give  up  a  business  so 
injurious  to  his  health." 

However,  all  Agathe's  anxieties  were  at  this  time  for 
her  son  the  lieutenant-colonel.  When  she  saw  him 
again  in  1816,  reduced  from  the  salary  of  nine  thou- 
sand francs  (paid  to  a  commander  in  the  dragoons  of 
the  Imperial  Guard)  to  a  half-pay  of  three  hundred 
francs  a  month,  she  fitted  up  her  attic  rooms  for  him, 
and  spent  her  savings  in  doing  so.  Philippe  was  one 
of  the  faithful  Bonapartes  of  the  cafe  Lemblin,  that  con- 
stitutional Boeotia ;   he  acquired  the  habits,  manners, 


38  The  Two  Brothers. 

style,  and  life  of  a  half-pay  officer;  indeed,  like  anj 
other  young  man  of  twenty-one,  he  exaggerated  them, 
vowed  in  good  earnest  a  mortal  enmity  to  the  Bour- 
bons, never  reported  himself  at  the  War  department, 
and  even  refused  opportunities  which  were  offered  to 
him  for  employment  in  the  infantry  with  his  rank  of  lieu- 
tenant-colonel. In  his  mother's  e3'es,  Philippe  seemed 
in  all  this  to  be  displaying  a  noble  character. 

"The  father  himself  could  have  done  no  more,"  she 
said. 

Philippe's  half-pay  sufficed  him  ;  he  cost  nothing  at 
home,  whereas  all  Joseph's  expenses  were  paid  b}-  the 
two  widows.  From  that  moment,  Agathe's  preference 
for  Philippe  was  openty  shown.  Up  to  that  time  it 
had  been  secret ;  but  the  persecution  of  this  faithful  ser- 
vant of  the  Emperor,  the  recollection  of  the  wound  re- 
ceived b3T  her  cherished  son,  his  courage  in  adversity, 
which,  voluntary  though  it  were,  seemed  to  her  a  glori- 
ous adversity,  drew  forth  all  Agathe's  tenderness.  The 
one  sentence,  "He  is  unfortunate,"  explained  and  jus- 
tified everything.  Joseph  himself,  —  with  the  innate 
simplicity  which  superabounds  in  the  artist-soul  in  its 
opening  years,  and  who  was,  moreover,  brought  up  to 
admire  his  big  brother,  —  so  far  from  being  hurt  by  the 
preference  of  their  mother,  encouraged  it  b\T  sharing 
her  worship  of  the  hero  who  had  carried  Napoleon's 
orders  on  two  battlefields,  and  was  wounded  at  Water- 
loo. How  could  he  doubt  the  superiority  of  the  grand 
brother,  whom  he  had  beheld  in  the  green  and  gold  uni- 
form of  the  dragoons  of  the  Guard,  commanding  his 
squadron  on  the  Champ  de  Mars? 

Agathe,  notwithstanding  this  preference,  was  an  ex- 
cellent mother.     She  loved  Joseph,  though  not  blindly; 


The  Two  Brothers.  39 

she  simply  was  unable  to  understand  him.  Joseph 
adored  his  mother ;  Philippe  let  his  mother  adore  him. 
Towards  her,  the  dragoon  softened  his  militaiy  bru- 
tality ;  but  he  never  concealed  the  contempt  he  felt  for 
Joseph,  —  expressing  it,  however,  in  a  friendly  way. 
When  he  looked  at  his  brother,  weak  and  sickly  as  he 
was  at  seventeen  years  of  age,  shrunken  with  deter- 
mined toil,  and  over- weighted  with  his  powerful  head, 
he  nicknamed  him  "  Cub."  Philippe's  patronizing  man- 
ners would  have  wounded  any  one  less  carelessly  in- 
different than  the  artist,  who  had,  moreover,  a  firm  belief 
in  the  goodness  of  heart  which  soldiers  hid,  he  thought, 
beneath  a  brutal  exterior.  Joseph  did  not  yet  know, 
poor  bo}%  that  soldiers  of  genius  are  as  gentle  and  cour- 
teous in  manner  as  other  superior  men  in  any  walk  of 
life.     All  genius  is  alike,  wherever  found. 

"Poor  boy!"  said  Philippe  to  his  mother,  "  we 
mustn't  plague  him  ;  let  him  do  as  he  likes." 

To  his  mother's  eyes  the  colonel's  contempt  was  a 
mark  of  fraternal  affection. 

"  Philippe  will  always  love  and  protect  his  brother," 
she  thought  to  herself. 


40  The  Two  Brothers. 


III. 


In  1816,  Joseph  obtained  his  mother's  permission  to 
convert  the  garret  which  adjoined  his  attic  room  into  an 
atelier,  and  Madame  Descoings  gave  him  a  little  monej- 
for  the  indispensable  requirements  of  the  painter's  trade  ; 
—  in  the  minds  of  the  two  widows,  the  art  of  painting 
was  nothing  but  a  trade.  With  the  feeling  and  ardor 
of  his  vocation,  the  lad  himself  arranged  his  humble 
atelier.  Madame  Descoings  persuaded  the  owner  of 
the  house  to  put  a  skylight  in  the  roof.  The  garret 
was  turned  into  a  vast  hall  painted  in  chocolate-color 
hy  Joseph  himself.  On  the  walls  he  hung  a  few  sketches. 
Agathe  contributed,  not  without  reluctance,  a  little  iron 
stove  ;  so  that  her  son  might  be  able  to  work  at  home, 
without,  however,  abandoning  the  studio  of  Gros,  nor 
that  of  Schinner. 

The  constitutional  part}',  supported  chiefly  bj-  officers 
on  half-pay  and  the  Bonapartists,  were  at  this  time 
inciting  emeutes  around  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  on 
behalf  of  the  Charter,  though  no  one  actually  wanted  it. 
Several  conspiracies  were  brewing.  Philippe,  who  dab- 
bled in  them,  was  arrested,  and  then  released  for  want 
of  proof ;  but  the  minister  of  war  cut  short  his  half-pay 
by  putting  him  on  the  active  list,  —  a  step  that  might  be 
called  a  form  of  discipline.  France  was  no  longer  safe  ; 
Philippe  was  liable  to  fall  into  some  trap  laid  for  him 
by  spies,  — provocative  agents,  as  they  were  called,  be- 
ing much  talked  of  in  those  days. 


The  Two  Brothers.  41 

While  Philippe  plaj'ed  billiards  in  disaffected  cafes, 
losing  his  time  and  acquiring  the  habit  of  wetting  his 
whistle  with  "little  glasses"  of  all  sorts  of  liquors, 
Agathe  lived  in  mortal  terror  for  the  safety  of  the 
great  man  of  the  family.  The  Grecian  sages  were 
too  much  accustomed  to  wend  their  nightly  way  up 
Madame  Bridau's  staircase,  finding  the  two  widows 
ready^  and  waiting,  and  hearing  from  them  all  the  news 
of  their  day,  ever  to  break  up  the  habit  of  coming  to 
the  green  salon  for  their  game  of  cards.  The  minis- 
try of  the  interior,  though  purged  of  its  former  em- 
ployes in  181G,  had  retained  Claparon,  one  of  those 
cautious  men,  who  whisper  the  news  of  the  "  Moniteur," 
adding  invariably,  'k  Don't  quote  me."  Desroches,  who 
had  retired  from  active  service  some  time  after  old  Du 
Bruel,  was  still  battling  for  his  pension.  The  three 
friends,  who  were  witnesses  of  Agathe's  distress, 
advised  her  to  send  the  colonel  to  travel  in  foreign 
countries. 

"  Thej'  talk  about  conspiracies,  and  your  son,  with 
his  disposition,  will  be  certain  to  fall  a  victim  in  some 
of  them  ;  there  is  plenty  of  treachery  in  these  days." 

"  Philippe  is  cut  from  the  wood  the  Emperor  made  into 
marshals,"  said  Du  Bruel,  in  a  low  voice,  looking  cau- 
tiously about  him  ;  kt  and  lie  mustn't  give  up  his  pro- 
fession.    Let  him  serve  in  the  East,  in  India  — " 

•'  Think  of  his  health,"  said  Agathe. 

"  Why  doesn't  he  get  some  place,  or  business  ?" 
said  old  Desroches  ;  "  there  are  plenty  of  private  offices 
to  be  had.  I  am  going  as  head  of  a  bureau  in  an  in- 
surance compan}*,  as  soon  as  I  have  got  my  pension." 

"  Philippe  is  a  soldier  ;  he  would  not  like  to  be  any- 
thing else,"  said  the  warlike  Agathe. 


42  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Then  he  ought  to  have  the  sense  to  ask  for  employ- 
ment —  " 

"  And  serve  these  others  /"  cried  the  widow.  "  Oh ! 
I  will  never  give  him  that  advice." 

"You  are  wrong,"  said  Du  Bruel.  "My  son  has 
just  got  an  appointment  through  the  Due  de  Navarreins. 
The  Bourbons  are  very  good  to  those  who  are  sincere 
in  rallying  to  them.  Your  son  could  be  appointed  lieu- 
tenant-colonel to  a  regiment." 

"  They  only  appoint  nobles  in  the  cavalry.  Philippe 
would  never  rise  to  be  a  colonel,"  said  Madame  Des- 
coings. 

Agathe,  much  alarmed,  entreated  Philippe  to  travel 
abroad,  and  put  himself  at  the  service  of  some  foreign 
power  who,  she  thought,  would  gladly  welcome  a  staff 
officer  of  the  Emperor. 

"  Serve  a  foreign  nation !  "  cried  Philippe,  with 
horror. 

Agathe  kissed  her  son  with  enthusiasm. 

"  His  father  all  over  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  He  is  right,"  said  Joseph.  "  France  is  too  proud 
of  her  heroes  to  let  them  be  heroic  elsewhere.  Na- 
poleon ma}'  return  once  more." 

However,  to  satisfy  his  mother,  Philippe  took  up 
the  dazzling  idea  of  joining  General  Lallemand  in  the 
United  States,  and  helping  him  to  found  what  was  called 
the  Champ  d'Asile,  one  of  the  most  disastrous  swindles 
that  ever  appeared  under  the  name  of  national  sub- 
scription. Agathe  gave  ten  thousand  francs  to  start  her 
son,  and  she  went  to  Havre  to  see  him  off.  By  the  end 
of  1817,  she  had  accustomed  herself  to  live  on  the  six 
hundred  francs  a  year  which  remained  to  her  from  her 
property  in  the  Funds  ;  then,  by  a  lucky  chance,  she  made 


The  Two  Brothers.  43 

a  good  investment  of  the  ten  thousand  francs  she  still 
kept  of  her  savings,  from  which  she  obtained  an  inter- 
est of  seven  per  cent.  Joseph  wished  to  emulate  in  his 
mother's  devotion.  He  dressed  like  a  bailiff;  wrore  the 
commonest  shoes  and  blue  stockings  ;  denied  himself 
gloves,  and  burned  charcoal ;  he  lived  on  bread  and 
milk  and  Brie  cheese.  The  poor  lad  got  no  sympathy, 
except  from  Madame  Descoings,  and  from  Bixiou,  his 
student- friend  and  comrade,  who  was  then  making  those 
admirable  caricatures  of  his,  and  filling  a  small  office  in 
the  ministry. 

"  With  what  joy  I  welcomed  the  summer  of  1818  !  " 
said  Joseph  Bridau  in  after^ears,  relating  his  troubles  ; 
M  the  sun  saved  me  the  cost  of  charcoal." 

As  good  a  colorist  by  this  time  as  Gros  himself, 
Joseph  now  went  to  his  master  for  consultation  onl}T. 
He  was  already  meditating  a  tilt  against  classical  tradi- 
tions, and  Grecian  conventionalities,  in  short,  against  the 
leading-strings  which  held  down  an  art  to  which  Nature 
as  she  is  belongs,  in  the  omnipotence  of  her  creations  and 
her  imagery.  Joseph  made  ready  for  a  struggle  which, 
from  the  day  when  he  first  exhibited  in  the  Salon,  has 
never  ceased.  It  was  a  terrible  year.  Roguin,  the 
notary  of  Madame  Descoings  and  Madame  Bridau,  ab- 
sconded with  the  moneys  held  back  for  seven  years  from 
Madame  Descoings's  annuity,  which  by  that  time  were 
producing  two  thousand  francs  a  year.  Three  days  after 
this  disaster,  a  bill  of  exchange  for  a  thousand  francs, 
drawn  by  Philippe  upon  his  mother,  arrived  from  New 
York.  The  poor  fellow,  misled  like  so  many  others, 
had  lost  his  all  in  the  Champ  d'Asile.  A  letter,  which 
accompanied  the  bill,  drove  Agathe,  Joseph,  and  the 
Descoings  to  tears,  and  told  of  debts   contracted  in 


LIBRAS- 

THE  \ 


tJHIVEBSITY  1 


U  The  Two  Brothers. 

New  York,  where  his  comrades  in  misfortunes  had  in- 
dorsed for  him. 

M  It  was  I  who  made  him  go  !  "  cried  the  poor  mother, 
eager  to  divert  the  blame  from  Philippe. 

"I  advise  }tou  not  to  send  him  on  man}-  such  jour- 
neys," said  the  old  Descoings  to  her  niece. 

Madame  Descoings  was  heroic.  She  continued  to 
give  the  three  thousand  francs  a  year  to  Madame  Bri- 
dau,  but  she  still  paid  the  dues  on  her  trey  which  had 
never  turned  up  since  the  year  1799.  About  this  time, 
she  began  to  doubt  the  honesty  of  the  government,  and 
declared  it  was  capable  of  keeping  the  three  numbers 
in  the  urn,  so  as  to  excite  the  shareholders  to  put  in 
enormous  stakes.  After  a  rapid  survey  of  all  their  re- 
sources, it  seemed  to  the  two  women  impossible  to  raise 
the  thousand  francs  without  selling  out  the  little  that 
remained  in  the  Funds.  The}*  talked  of  pawning  their 
silver  and  part  of  the  linen,  and  even  the  needless 
pieces  of  furniture.  Joseph,  alarmed  at  these  sugges- 
tions, went  to  see  Gerard  and  told  him  their  circum- 
stances. The  great  painter  obtained  an  order  from  the 
household  of  the  king  for  two  copies  of  a  portrait  of 
Louis  XVIII.,  at  five  hundred  francs  each.  Though 
not  naturally  generous,  Gros  took  his  pupil  to  an  artist- 
furnishing  house  and  fitted  him  out  with  the  necessary 
materials.  But  the  thousand  francs  could  not  be  had 
till  the  copies  were  delivered,  so  Joseph  painted  four 
panels  in  ten  da}*s,  sold  them  to  the  dealers  and  brought 
his  mother  the  thousand  francs  with  which  to  meet  the 
bill  of  exchange  when  it  fell  due.  Eight  days  later,  came 
a  letter  from  the  colonel,  informing  his  mother  that  he 
was  about  to  return  to  France  on  board  a  packet  from 
New  York,  whose  captain  had  trusted  him  for  the  pas- 


The  Two  Brothers.  45 

sage-money.  Philippe  announced  that  he  should  need 
at  least  a  thousand  francs  on  his  arrival  at  Havre. 

"  Good,"  said  Joseph  to  his  mother,  "I  shall  have 
finished  my  copies  by  that  time,  and  you  can  carry  him 
the  money." 

tk  Dear  Joseph  !  "  cried  Agathe  in  tears,  kissing  her 
son,  "  God  will  bless  you.  You  do  love  him,  then,  poor 
persecuted  fellow  ?  He  is  indeed  our  glory  and  our  hope 
for  the  future.  So  young,  so  brave,  so  unfortunate  ! 
everything  is  against  him  ;  we  three  must  always  stand 
by  him." 

"  You  see  now  that  painting  is  good  for  something," 
cried  Joseph,  overjoyed  to  have  won  his  mother's  per- 
mission to  be  a  great  artist. 

Madame  Bridau  rushed  to  meet  her  beloved  son, 
Colonel  Philippe,  at  Havre.  Once  there,  she  walked 
every  day  beyond  the  round  tower  built  by  Francois  I., 
to  look  but  for  the  American  packet,  enduring  the 
keenest  anxieties.  Mothers  alone  know  how  such  suf- 
ferings quicken  maternal  love.  The  vessel  arrived  on 
a  fine  morning  in  October,  1819,  without  delay,  and 
having  met  with  no  mishap.  The  sight  of  a  mother  and 
the  air  of  one's  native  land  produces  a  certain  effect  upon 
the  coarsest  nature,  especially  after  the  miseries  of  a  sea- 
voyage.  Philippe  gave  wa3T  to  a  rush  of  feeling,  which 
made  Agathe  think  to  herself,  "Ah!  how  lie  loves 
me!"  Alas,  the  hero  loved  but  one  person  in  the 
world,  and  that  person  was  Colonel  Philippe.  His  mis- 
fortunes in  Texas,  his  stay  in  New  York, —  a  place  where 
speculation  and  individualism  are  carried  to  the  highest 
pitch,  where  the  brutality  of  self-interest  attains  to  cyni- 
cism, where  man,  essentially  isolated,  is  compelled  to 
push  his  way  for  himself  and  by  himself,  where  politeness 


46  The  Two  Brothers. 

does  not  exist, — in  fact,  even  the  minor  events  of 
Philippe's  journey  had  developed  in  him  the  worst  traits 
of  an  old  campaigner :  he  had  grown  brutal,  selfish, 
rude ;  he  drank  and  smoked  to  excess  ;  physical  hard- 
ships and  poverty  had  depraved  him.  Moreover,  he 
considered  himself  persecuted  ;  and  the  effect  of  that 
idea  is  to  make  persons  who  are  unintelligent  persecu- 
tors and  bigots  themselves.  To  Philippe's  conception 
of  life,  the  universe  began  at  his  head  and  ended  at  his 
feet,  and  the  sun  shone  for  him  alone.  The  things  he 
had  seen  in  New  York,  interpreted  by  his  practical 
nature,  carried  away  his  last  scruples  on  the  score  of 
morality.  For  such  beings,  there  are  but  two  ways  of 
existence.  Either  they  believe,  or  thej^  do  not  believe  ; 
they  have  the  virtues  of  honest  men,  or  the}'  give  them- 
selves up  to  the  demands  of  necessit}7 ;  in  which  case 
they  proceed  to  turn  their  slightest  interests  and  each 
passing  impulse  of  their  passions  into  necessities. 

Such  a  S3'stem  of  life  carries  a  man  a  long  wa}\  It 
was  only  in  appearance  that  Colonel  Philippe  retained 
the  frankness,  plain-dealing,  and  easy-going  freedom  of 
a  soldier.  This  made  him,  in  realit}',  very  dangerous  ; 
he  seemed  as  guileless  as  a  child,  but,  thinking  only  of 
himself,  he  never  did  anything  without  reflecting  what  he 
had  better  do,  —  like  a  wily  lawyer  planning  some  trick 
a  la  Maitre  Oonin  /  words  cost  him  nothing,  and  he 
said  as  many  as  he  could  get  people  to  believe.  If,  un- 
fortunatety,  some  one  refused  to  accept  the  explanations 
with  which  he  justified  the  contradictions  between  his 
conduct  and  his  professions,  the  colonel,  who  was  a 
good  shot  and  could  defy  the  most  adroit  fencing- 
master,  and  possessed  the  coolness  of  one  to  whom  life 
is  indifferent,  was  quite  read}-  to  demand  satisfaction  for 


The  Two  Brothers.  47 

the  first  sharp  word  ;  and  when  a  man  shows  himself 
prepared  for  violence  there  is  little  .more  to  be  said. 
His  imposing  stature  had  taken  on  a  .certain  rotundit}', 
his  face  was  bronzed  from  exposure  in  Texas,  he  was 
still  succinct  in  speech,  and  had  acquired  the  decisive 
tone  of  a  man  obliged  to  make  himself  feared  among 
the  populations  of  a  new  world.  Thus  developed, 
plainly  dressed,  his  bod}'  trained  to  endurance  by  his 
recent  hardships,  Philippe  in  the  eyes  of  his  mother  was 
a  hero ;  in  point  of  fact,  he  had  simply  become  what 
people  (not  to  mince  matters)  call  a  blackguard. 

Shocked  at  the  destitution  of  her  cherished  son, 
Madame  Bridau  bought  him  a  complete  outfit  of  clothes 
at  Havre.  After  listening  to  the  tale  of  his  woes,  she 
had  not  the  heart  to  stop  his  drinking  and  eating  and 
amusing  himself  as  a  man  just  returned  from  the  Champ 
d'Asile  was  likely  to  eat  and  drink  and  divert  himself. 
It  was  certainly  a  line  conception,  —  that  of  conquering 
Texas  with  the  remains  of  the  imperial  army.  The 
failure  was  less  in  the  idea  than  in  the  men  who  con- 
ceived it ;  for  Texas  is  to-day  a  republic,  with  a  future 
full  of  promise.  This  scheme  of  Liberalism  under  the 
Restoration  distinct!}'  proves  that  the  interests  of  the 
party  were  purety  selfish  and  not  national,  seeking 
power  and  nothing  else.  Neither  men,  nor  occasion,  nor 
cause,  nor  devotion  were  lacking ;  only  the  money  and 
the  support  of  the  hypocritical  party  at  home  who  dis- 
pensed enormous  sums,  but  gave  nothing  when  it  came 
to  recovering  empire.  Household  managers  like  Agathe 
have  a  plain  common-sense  which  enables  them  to  per- 
ceive such  political  chicane :  the  poor  woman  saw  tlu 
truth  through  the  lines  of  her  son's  tale  ;  for  she  had 
read,  in  the  exiles  interests,  all  the  pompous  editorials 


48  The  Two  Brothers. 

of  the  constitutional  journals,  and  watched  the  manage- 
ment of  the  famous  subscription,  which  produced  barely 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  when  it  ought  to 
have  yielded  five  or  six  millions.  The  Liberal  leaders 
soon  found  out  that  the}'  were  playing  into  the  hands  of 
Louis  XVIII.  by  exporting  the  glorious  remnants  of 
our  grand  army,  and  the}'  promptly  abandoned  to  their 
fate  the  most  devoted,  the  most  ardent,  the  most  enthu- 
siastic of  its  heroes,  —  those,  in  short,  who  had  gone  in 
the  advance.  Agathe  was  never  able,  however,  to 
make  her  son  see  that  he  was  more  duped  than  perse- 
cuted. With  blind  belief  in  her  idol,  she  supposed  her- 
self ignorant,  and  deplored,  as  Philippe  did,  the  evil 
times  which  had  done  him  such  wrong.  Up  to  this 
time  he  was,  to  her  mind,  throughout  his  misfortunes, 
less  fault}'  than  victimized  by  his  noble  nature,  his 
energy,  the  fall  of  the  Emperor,  the  duplicity  of  the 
Liberals,  and  the  rancor  of  the  Bourbons  against  the 
Bonapartists.  During  the  week  at  Havre,  a  week  which 
was  horribly  costly,  she  dared  not  ask  him  to  make  terms 
with  the  royal  government  and  apply  to  the  minister  of 
war.  She  had  hard  work  to  get  him  away  from  Havre, 
where  living  is  very  expensive,  and  to  bring  him  back  to 
Paris  before  her  money  gave  out.  Madame  Descoings 
and  Joseph,  who  were  waiting  their  arrival  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  coach-office  of  the  Messageries  Royales,  were 
struck  with  the  change  in  Agathe's  face. 

ki  Your  mother  has  aged  ten  years  in  two  months," 
whispered  the  Descoings  to  Joseph,  as  they  all  em- 
braced, and  the  two  trunks  were  being  handed  down. 

44  How  do  you  do,  mere  Descoings?"  was  the  cool 
greeting  the  colonel  bestowed  on  the  old  woman  whom 
Joseph  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  "  maman  Descoings." 


The  Two  Brothers.  49 

"  I  have  no  mone}T  to  pay  for  a  hackne}--coach,"  said 
Agathe,  in  a  sad  voice. 

"I  have,"  replied  the  3'oung  painter.  "  What  a 
splendid  color  Philippe  has  turned  !  "  he  cried,  looking 
at  his  brother. 

"Yes,  I've  browned  like  a  pipe,"  said  Philippe. 
"  But  as  for  you,  3-011  're  not  a  bit  changed,  little  man." 

Joseph,  who  was  now  twenty-one,  and  much  thought 
of  by  the  friends  who  had  stood  by  him  in  his  days  of 
trial,  felt  his  own  strength  and  was  aware  of  his  talent ; 
he  represented  the  art  of  painting  in  a  circle  of  young 
men  whose  lives  were  devoted  to  science,  letters, 
politics,  and  philosoph}-.  Consequently,  he  was  wounded 
by  his  brother's  contempt,  which  Philippe  still  further 
emphasized  with  a  gesture,  pulling  his  ears  as  if  he 
were  still  a  child.  Agathe  noticed  the  coolness  which 
succeeded  the  first  glow  of  tenderness  on  the  part  of 
Joseph  and  Madame  Descoings ;  but  she  hastened  to 
tell  them  of  Philippe's  sufferings  in  exile,  and  so  les- 
sened it.  Madame  Descoings,  wishing  to  make  a  fes- 
tival of  the  return  of  the  prodigal,  as  she  called  him 
under  her  breath,  had  prepared  one  of  her  good  dinners, 
to  which  old  Claparon  and  the  elder  Desroches  were 
invited.  All  the  family  friends  were  to  come,  and  did 
come,  in  the  evening.  Joseph  had  invited  Leon  Giraud, 
d'Arthez,  Michel  Chrestien,  Fulgence  Ridal,  and  Horace 
Bianchon,  his  friends  of  the  fraternity.  Madame  Des- 
coings had  promised  Bixiou,  her  so-called  step-son,  that 
the  young  people  should  play  at  ecarte.  Desroches 
the  younger,  who  had  now  taken,  under  his  father's  stern 
rule,  his  degree  at  law,  was  also  of  the  party.  Du  Bruel, 
Claparon,  Desroches,  and  the  Abbe  Loraux  carefully 
observed  the  returned  exile,  whose  manners  and  coarse 

4 


50  The  Two  Brothers. 

features,  and  voice  roughened  by  the  abuse  of  liquors, 
together  with  his  vulgar  glance  and  phraseology, 
alarmed  them  not  a  little.  While  Joseph  was  placing 
the  card-tables,  the  more  intimate  of  the  family  friends 
surrounded  Agathe  and  asked,  — 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  make  of  Philippe?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  "  but  he  is  determined 
not  to  serve  the  Bourbons." 

"  Then  it  will  be  very  difficult  to  find  him  a  place  in 
France.  If  he  won't  re-enter  the  army,  he  can't  be 
readily  got  into  government  employ,"  said  old  Du  Bruel. 
tk  And  you  have  only  to  listen  to  him  to  see  he  could 
never,  like  my  son,  make  his  fortune  bj*  writing 
plays." 

The  motion  of  Agathe's  e}es,  with  which  alone  she 
replied  to  this  speech,  showed  how  anxious  Philippe's 
future  made  her;  the}'  all  kept  silence.  The  exile  him- 
self, Bixiou,  and  the  younger  Desroches  were  playing  at 
ecarte,  a  game  which  was  then  the  rage. 

'kMaman  Descoings,  my  brother  has  no  mone3T  to 
play  with,"  whispered  Joseph  in  the  good  woman's  ear. 

The  devotee  of  the  Ro3'al  Lottery  fetched  twenty 
francs  and  gave  them  to  the  artist,  who  slipped  them 
secretly  into  his  brother's  hand.  All  the  company  were 
now  assembled.  There  were  two  tables  of  boston  ;  and 
the  party  grew  lively.  Philippe  proved  a  bad  player : 
after  winning  for  awhile,  he  began  to  lose  ;  and  by  eleven 
o'clock  he  owed  fifty  francs  to  3"oung  Desroches  and  to 
Bixiou.  The  racket  and  the  disputes  at  the  ecarte 
table  resounded  more  than  once  in  the  ears  of  the  more 
peaceful  boston  players,  who  wrere  watching  Philippe 
surreptitiously.  The  exile  showed  such  signs  of  bad 
temper    that    in    his    final    dispute   with  the    younger 


The  Two  Brothers.  51 

Desroches,  who  was  none  too  amiable  himself,  the 
elder  Desroches  joined  in,  and  though  his  son  was 
decidedly  in  the  right,  he  declared  he  was  in  the 
wrong,  and  forbade  him  to  play  any  more.  Madame 
Descoings  did  the  same  with  her  grandson,  who  was 
beginning  to  let  fry  certain  witticisms ;  and  although 
Philippe,  so  far,  had  not  understood  him,  there  was 
always  a  chance  that  one  of  the  barbed  arrows  might 
pierce  the  colonel's  thick  skull  and  put  the  sharp  jester 
in  peril. 

"You  must  be  tired,"  whispered  Agathe  in  Philippe's 
ear  ;  "  come  to  bed." 

"Travel  educates  youth,"  said  Bixiou,  grinning,  when 
Madame  Bridau  and  the  colonel  had  disappeared. 

Joseph,  who  got  up  at  dawn  and  went  to  bed  early, 
did  not  see  the  end  of  the  party.  The  next  morning 
Agathe  and  Madame  Descoings,  while  preparing  break- 
fast, could  not  help  remarking  that  soirees  would  be  ter- 
ribly expensive  if  Philippe  were  to  go  on  playing  that 
sort  of  game,  as  the  Descoings  phrased  it.  The  worthy 
old  woman,  then  seventy-six  years  of  age,  proposed  to 
sell  her  furniture,  give  up  her  appartement  on  the  second 
floor  (which  the  owner  was  only  too  glad  to  occupy),  and 
take  Agathe's  parlor  for  her  chamber,  making  the  other 
room  a  sitting-room  and  dining-room  for  the  family. 
In  this  wa}-  they  could  save  seven  hundred  francs 
a  year ;  which  would  enable  them  to  give  Philippe 
fifty  francs  a  month  until  he  could  find  something  to 
do.  Agathe  accepted  the  sacrifice.  When  the  colonel 
came  down  and  his  mother  had  asked  how  he  liked 
his  little  bedroom,  the  two  widows  explained  to  him 
the  situation  of  the  family.  Madame  Descoings 
and  Agathe  possessed,  by  putting  all  their  resources 


52  The  Two  Brothers. 

together,  an  income  of  five  thousand  three  hundred 
francs,  four  thousand  of  which  belonged  to  Madame 
Descoings  and  were  merely  a  life  annuity.  The  Des- 
coings  made  an  allowance  of  six  hundred  a  }*ear  to 
Bixiou,  whom  she  had  acknowledged  as  her  grandson 
during  the  last  few  months,  also  six  hundred  to  Joseph  ; 
the  rest  of  her  income,  together  with  that  of  Agathe, 
was  spent  for  the  household  wants.  All  their  savings 
were  by  this  time  eaten  up. 

"Make  3'ourselves  easy,"  said  the  lieutenant-colonel. 
"I'll  find  a  situation  and  put  you  to  no  expense ;  all  I 
need  for  the  present  is  board  and  lodging." 

Agathe  kissed  her  son,  and  Madame  Descoings  slipped 
a  hundred  francs  into  his  hand  to  pay  for  his  losses  of 
the  night  before.  In  ten  days  the  furniture  was  sold,  the 
appartement  given  up,  and  the  change  in  Agathe's  do- 
mestic arrangements  accomplished  with  a  celerit}*  seldom 
seen  outside  of  Paris.  During  these  ten  days,  Philippe 
regularly  decamped  after  breakfast,  came  back  for  din- 
ner, was  off  again  for  the  evening,  and  only  got  home 
about  midnight  to  go  to  bed.  He  contracted  certain 
habits  half  mechanically,  and  the}'  soon  became  rooted 
in  him  ;  he  got  his  boots  blacked  on  the  Pont  Neuf  for 
the  two  sous  it  would  have  cost  him  to  go  by  the  Pont 
des  Arts  to  the  Palais-Royal,  where  he  consumed  regu- 
larly two  glasses  of  brandy  while  reading  the  newspa- 
pers,—  an  occupation  which  employed  him  till  midday  ; 
after  that  he  sauntered  along  the  rue  Vivienne  to  the 
cafe  Minerve,  where  the  Liberals  congregated,  and 
where  he  phTyed  at  billiards  with  a  number  of  old  com- 
rades. While  winning  and  losing,  Philippe  swallowed 
four  or  five  more  glasses  of  divers  liquors,  and  smoked 
ten  or  a  dozen  cigars  in  going  and  coming-  and  idling 


The  Two  Brothers.  53 

along  the  streets.  In  the  evening,  after  consuming  a 
few  pipes  at  the  Hollandais  smoking-rooms,  he  would 
go  to  some  gambling-place  towards  ten  o'clock  at  night. 
The  waiter  handed  him  a  card  and  a  pin  ;  he  always  in- 
quired of  certain  well-seasoned  players  about  the  chances 
of  the  red  or  the  black,  and  staked  ten  francs  when  the 
lucky  moment  seemed  to  come;  never  playing  more 
than  three  times,  win  or  lose.  If  he  won,  which  usually 
happened,  he  drank  a  tumbler  of  punch  and  went  home 
to  his  garret ;  but  by  that  time  he  talked  of  smashing 
the  ultras  and  the  Bourbon  body-guard,  and  trolled  out, 
as  he  mounted  the  staircase,  "We  watch  to  save  the 
Empire  ! "  His  poor  mother,  hearing  him,  used  to  think 
"How  gay  Philippe  is  to-night!"  and  then  she  would 
creep  up  and  kiss  him,  without  complaining  of  the  fetid 
odo^  of  the  punch,  and  the  brandy,  and  the  pipes. 

"You  ought  to  be  satisfied  with  me,  my  dear  mother," 
he  said,  towards  the  end  of  January  ;  "I  lead  the 
most  regular  of  lives." 

The  colonel  had  dined  five  times  at  a  restaurant  with 
some  of  his  army  comrades.  These  old  soldiers  were 
quite  frank  with  each  other  on  the  state  of  their  own 
affairs,  all  the  while  talking  of  certain  hopes  which  they 
based  on  the  building  of  a  submarine  vessel,  expected  to 
bring  about  the  deliverance  of  the  Emperor.  Among 
these  former  comrades,  Philippe  particularly  liked  an 
old  captain  of  the  dragoons  of  the  Guard,  named  Girou- 
deau,  in  whose  company  he  had  seen  his  first  service. 
This  friendship  with  the  late  dragoon  led  Philippe  into 
completing  what  Rabelais  called  "the  devil's  equipage  ; " 
and  he  added  to  his  drams,  and  his  tobacco,  and  his 
play,  a  "  fourth  wheel." 

One  evening  at  the  beginning  of  February,  Giroudeau 


54  The  Ttvo  Brothers. 

took  Philippe  after  dinner  to  the  Gaite,  occupying  a 
free  box  sent  to  a  theatrical  journal  belonging  to  his 
nephew  Finot,  in  whose  office  Giroucleau  was  cashier 
and  secretary.  Both  were  dressed  after  the  fashion  of 
the  Bonapartist  officers  who  now  belonged  to  the  Con- 
stitutional Opposition  ;  they  wore  ample  overcoats  with 
square  collars,  buttoned  to  the  chin  and  coming  down 
to  their  heels,  and  decorated  with  the  rosette  of  the 
Legion  of  honor ;  and  they  carried  malacca  canes  with 
loaded  knobs,  which  they  held  by  strings  of  braided 
leather.  The  late  troopers  had  just  (to  use  one  of 
their  own  expressions)  "  made  a  bout  of  it,"  and  were 
mutually  unbosoming  their  hearts  as  the}'  entered  the 
box.  Through  the  fumes  of  a  certain  number  of  bot- 
tles and  various  glasses  of  various  liquors,  Giroudeau 
pointed  out  to  Philippe  a  plump  and  agile  little  ballet- 
girl  whom  he  called  Florentine,  whose  good  graces  and 
affection,  together  with  the  box,  belonged  to  him  as  the 
representative  of  an  all-powerful  journal. 

"But,"  said  Philippe,  "  I  should  like  to  know  how 
far  her  good  graces  go  for  such  an  iron-gra}'  old  trooper 
as  .you." 

"Thank  God,"  replied  Giroudeau,  "I've  stuck  to 
the  traditions  of  our  glorious  uniform.  I  have  never 
wasted  a  farthing  upon  a  woman  in  my  life." 

"What's  that?"  said  Philippe,  putting  a  finger  on 
his  left  eye. 

"  That  is  so,"  answered  Giroudeau.  "But,  between 
ourselves,  the  newspaper  counts  for  a  good  deal.  To- 
morrow, in  a  couple  of  lines,  we  shall  advise  the 
managers  to  let  Mademoiselle  Florentine  dance  a  par- 
ticular step,  and  so  forth.  Faith,  my  dear  boy,  I'm 
uncommonly  lucky  !  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  55 

"  Well!  "  thought  Philippe;  "if  this  worthy  Girou- 
dean,  with  a  skull  as  polished  as  my  knee,  forty-eight 
years,  a  big  stomach,  a  face  like  a  ploughman,  and  a 
nose  like  a  potato,  can  get  a  ballet-girl,  I  ought  to  be 
the  lover  of  the  first  actress  in  Paris.  Where  does  one 
find  such  luck?"  he  said  aloud. 

"I'll  show  you  Florentine's  place  to-night.  My 
Dulcinea  only  earns  fifty  francs  a  month  at  the  thea- 
tre," added  Giroudeau,  "but  she  is  very  prettily  set 
up,  thanks  to  an  old  silk  dealer  named  Cardot,  who 
gives  her  five  hundred  francs  a  month." 

"  Well,  but  —  ?  "  exclaimed  the  jealous  Philippe. 

"  Bah  !  "  said  Giroudeau  ;  "  true  love  is  blind." 

When  the  play  was  over  Giroudeau  took  Philippe  to 
Mademoiselle  Florentine's  appartement,  which  was  close 
to  the  theatre,  in  the  rue  de  Crussol. 

"  We  must  behave  ourselves,"  said  Giroudeau. 
"  Florentine's  mother  is  here.  You  see,  I  have  n't  the 
means  to  pay  for  one,  so  the  worth}'  woman  is  really 
her  own  mother.  She  used  to  be  a  concierge,  but  she's 
not  without  intelligence.  Call  her  Madame  ;  she  makes 
a  point  of  it." 

Florentine  happened  that  night  to  have  a  friend  with 
her,  —  a  certain  Marie  Godeschal,  beautiful  as  an 
angel,  cold  as  a  danseuse,  and  a  pupil  of  Vestris,  who 
foretold  for  her  a  great  choregraphic  destiny.  Ma- 
demoiselle Godeschal,  anxious  to  make  her  first  ap- 
pearance at  the  Panorama-Dramatique  under  the  name 
of  Mariette,  based  her  hopes  on  the  protection  and 
influence  of  a  first  gentleman  of  the  bedchamber,  to 
whom  Vestris  had  promised  to  introduce  her.  Vestris, 
still  green  himself  at  this  period,  did  not  think  his  pu- 
pil sufficiently  trained  to  risk  the  introduction.     The 


56  The  Two  Brothers. 

ambitious  girl  did,  in  the  end,  make  her  pseudonym 
of  Mariette  famous  ;  and  the  motive  of  her  ambition,  it 
must  be  said,  was  praiseworthy.  She  had  a  brother,  a 
clerk  in  DervihVs  law  office.  Left  orphans  and  very 
poor,  and  devoted  to  each  other,  the  brother  and  sister 
had  seen  life  such  as  it  is  in  Paris.  The  one  wished  to 
be  a  lawyer  that  he  might  support  his  sister,  and  he  lived 
on  ten  sous  a  day  ;  the  other  had  coldly  resolved  to  be  a 
dancer,  and  to  profit  b}-  her  beauty  as  much  as  by  her 
legs  that  she  might  buy  a  practice  for  her  brother. 
Outside  of  their  feeling  for  each  other,  and  of  their 
mutual  life  and  interests,  everything  was  to  them,  as  it 
once  was  to  the  Romans  and  the  Hebrews,  barbaric, 
outlandish,  and  hostile.  This  generous  affection,  which 
nothing  ever  lessened,  explained  Mariette  to  those  who 
knew  her  intimatel}'. 

The  brother  and  sister  were  living  at  this  time  on  the 
eighth  floor  of  a  house  in  the  Vieille  rue  du  Temple. 
Mariette  had  begun  her  studies  when  she  was  ten  years 
old ;  she  was  now  just  sixteen.  Alas !  for  want  of 
becoming  clothes,  her  beauty,  hidden  under  a  coarse 
shawl,  dressed  in  calico,  and  ill-kept,  could  only  be 
guessed  by  those  Parisians  who  devote  themselves  to 
hunting  grisettes  and  the  quest  of  beauty  in  misfor- 
tune, as  she  trotted  past  them  with  mincing  step, 
mounted  on  iron  pattens.  Philippe  fell  in  love  with 
Mariette.  To  Mariette,  Philippe  was  commander  of  the 
dragoons  of  the  Guard,  a  staff-officer  of  the  Emperor,  a 
young  man  of  twenty-seven,  and  above  all,  the  means 
of  proving  herself  superior  to  Florentine  b}r  the  evident 
superiority  of  Philippe  over  Giroudeau.  Florentine 
and  Giroudeau,  the  one  to  promote  his  comrade's  hap- 
piness, the   other  to   get   a   protector   for  her   friend, 


The  Two  Brothers.  57 

pushed  Philippe  and  Mariette  into  a  mariage  en  de- 
trempe,  —  a  Parisian  term  which  is  equivalent  to  "  mor- 
ganatic marriage,"  as  applied  to  royal  personages. 
Philippe  when  they  left  the  house  revealed  his  poverty 
to  Giroudeau,  but  the  old  roue  reassured  him. 

"I'll  speak  to  my  nephew  Finot,"  he  said,  "You 
see,  Philippe,  the  reign  of  phrases  and  quill-drivers 
is  upon  us  ;  we  may  as  well  submit.  To-day,  scrib- 
blers are  paramount.  Ink  has  ousted  gunpowder, 
and  talk  takes  the  place  of  shot.  After  all,  these 
little  toads  of  editors  are  pretty  good  fellows,  and  very 
clever.  Come  and  see  me  to-morrow  at  the  newspaper 
office  ;  b}r  that  time  I  shall  have  said  a  word  for  you  to 
raj  nephew.  Before  long  30U  '11  have  a  place  on  some 
journal  or  other.  Mariette,  who  is  taking  30U  at  this 
moment  (don't  deceive  yourself)  because  she  literally 
has  nothing,  no  engagement,  no  chance  of  appearing 
on  the  stage,  and  I  have  told  her  that  you  are  going 
on  a  newspaper  like  myself,  —  Mariette  will  try  to 
make  you  believe  she  is  loving  you  for  yourself ;  and 
you  will  believe  her  !  Do  as  I  do,  —  keep  her  as  long 
as  you  can.  I  was  so  much  in  love  with  Florentine 
that  I  begged  Finot  to  write  her  up  and  help  her  to  a 
debut ;  but  my  nephew  replied,  ;  You  say  she  has 
talent ;  well,  the  da\T  after  her  first  appearance  she 
will  turn  her  back  on  you.'  Oh,  that 's  Finot  all  over  ! 
You  '11  find  him  a  knowing  one." 

The  next  day,  about  four  o'clock,  Philippe  went  to 
the  rue  de  Sentier,  where  he  found  Giroudeau  in  the 
entresol,  —  caged  like  a  wild  beast  in  a  sort  of  hen-coop 
with  a  sliding  panel ;  in  which  was  a  little  stove,  a  little 
table,  two  little  chairs,  and  some  little  logs  of  wood. 
This  establishment  bore  the  magic  words,  Subscription 


58  The  Two  Brothers. 

Office,  painted  on  the  door  in  black  letters,  and  the 
word  Cashier,  written  by  hand  and  fastened  to  the  grat- 
ing of  the  cage.  Along  the  wall  that  lay  opposite  to 
the  cage,  was  a  bench,  where,  at  this  moment,  a  one- 
armed  man  was  breakfasting,  who  was  called  Coloquinte 
by  Giroudeau,  doubtless  from  the  Egyptian  colors  of 
his  skin. 

"A  pretty  hole  !  "  exclaimed  Philippe,  looking  round 
the  room.  "In  the  name  of  thunder!  what  are  you 
doing  here,  you  who  charged  with  poor  Colonel  Chabert 
at  Eylau  ?    You  —  a  gallant  officer !  " 

"  Well,  yes  !  broom  !  broum  !  — a  gallant  officer  keep- 
ing the  accounts  of  a  little  newspaper,"  said  Giroudeau, 
settling  his  black  silk  skull-cap.  "  Moreover,  I'm  the 
working  editor  of  all  that  rubbish,"  he  added,  pointing 
to  the  newspaper  itself. 

"And  I,  who  went  to  Egypt,  I'm  obliged  to  stamp 
it,"  said  the  one-armed  man. 

"Hold  3'our  tongue,  Coloquinte,"  said  Giroudeau. 
"You  are  in  presence  of  a  hero  who  carried  the  Em- 
peror's orders  at  the  battle  of  Monte reau." 

Coloquinte  saluted.  "  That 's  where  I  lost  my  missing 
arm  !  "  he  said. 

"Coloquinte,  look  after  the  den.  I'm  going  up  to 
see  my  nephew." 

The  two  soldiers  mounted  to  the  fourth  floor,  where, 
in  an  attic  room  at  the  end  of  a  passage,  the}'  found  a 
young  man  with  a  cold  light  eye,  lying  on  a  dirty  sofa. 
The  representative  of  the  press  did  not  stir,  though  he 
offered  cigars  to  his  uncle  and  his  uncle's  friend. 

"  My  good  fellow,"  said  Giroudeau  in  a  soothing  and 
humble  tone,  "  this  is  the  gallant  cavalry  officer  of  the 
Imperial  Guard  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you." 


The  Two  Brothers.  59 

"Eh!  well?"  said  Finot,  eying  Philippe,  who,  like 
Giroudeau,  lost  all  his  assurance  before  the  diplomatist 
of  the  press. 

44  My  dear  boy,"  said  Giroudeau,  trying  to  pose  as  an 
uncle,  "  the  colonel  has  just  returned  from  Texas." 

44  Ah !  you  were  taken  in  by  that  affair  of  the  Champ 
d'Asile,  were  you  ?  Seems  to  me  you  were  rather  young 
to  turn  into  a  Soldier-laborer." 

The  bitterness  of  this  jest  will  only  be  understood  by 
those  who  remember  the  deluge  of  engravings,  screens, 
clocks,  bronzes,  and  plaster-casts  produced  hy  the  idea 
of  the  Soldier-laborer,  a  splendid  image  of  Napoleon  and 
his  heroes,  which  afterwards  made  its  appearance  on  the 
stage  in  vaudevilles.  That  idea,  however,  obtained  a 
national  subscription  ;  and  we  still  find,  in  the  depths 
of  the  provinces,  old  wall-papers  which  bear  the  effigy 
of  the  Soldier-laborer.  If  this  }'oung  man  had  not  been 
Giroudeau's  nephew,  Philippe  would  have  boxed  his 
ears. 

"Yes,  I  was  taken  in  by  it;  I  lost  my  time,  and 
twelve  thousand  francs  to  boot,"  answered  Philippe, 
trying  to  force  a  grin. 

44  You  are  still  fond  of  the  Emperor?  "  asked  Finot. 

44  He  is  my  god,"  answered  Philippe  Bridau. 

4  'You  are  a  Liberal?" 

44 1  shall  always  belong  to  the  Constitutional  Opposi- 
tion. Oh  Foy  !  oh  Manuel !  oh  Laffitte  !  what  men  they 
are  !  They  '11  rid  us  of  these  others,  —  these  wretches, 
who  came  back  to  France  at  the  heels  of  the  enenry." 

44  Well,"  said  Finot  coldly,  "  you  ought  to  make  some- 
thing out  of  3'our  misfortunes  ;  for  you  are  the  victim  of 
the  Liberals,  my  good  fellow.  Stay  a  Liberal,  if  you 
really  value  your  opinions,  but  threaten  the  party  with 


60  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  follies  in  Texas  which  you  are  ready  to  show  up.  You 
never  got  a  farthing  of  the  national  subscription,  did 
you?  Well,  then  you  hold  a  fine  position:  demand  an 
account  of  that  subscription.  I  'IT  tell  you  how  you  can 
do  it.  A  new  Opposition  journal  is  just  starting,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  deputies  of  the  Left ;  you  shall  be  the 
cashier,  with  a  salaiy  of  three  thousand  francs.  A  per- 
manent place.  All  you  want  is  some  one  to  go  security 
for  you  in  twenty  thousand  francs ;  find  that,  and  you 
shall  be  installed  within  a  week.  I  '11  advise  the  Lib- 
erals to  silence  30U  by  giving  you  the  place.  Mean- 
time, talk,  threaten, — threaten  loudly." 

Giroudeau  let  Philippe,  who  was  profuse  in  his  thanks, 
go  down  a  few  steps  before  him,  and  then  he  turned  back 
to  say  to  his  nephew,  "Well,  you  are  a  queer  fellow! 
you  keep  me  here  on  twelve  hundred  francs  — " 

"  That  journal  won't  live  a  year,"  said  Finot.  "  I  've 
got  something  better  for  you." 

"Thunder!"  cried  Philippe  to  Giroudeau.  "He's 
no  fool,  that  nephew  of  yours.  I  never  once  thought  of 
making  something,  as  he  calls  it,  out  of  my  position." 

That  night  at  the  cafe  Lemblin  and  the  cafe  Minerve 
Colonel  Philippe  fulminated  against  the  Liberal  party, 
which  had  raised  subscriptions,  sent  heroes  to  Texas, 
talked  hypocritically  of  Soldier-laborers,  and  left  them 
to  starve,  after  taking  the  money  they  had  put  into  it, 
and  keeping  them  in  exile  for  two  years. 

"I  am  going  to  demand  an  account  of  the  moneys 
collected  by  the  subscription  for  the  Champ  d'Asile,"  he 
said  to  one  of  the  frequenters  of  the  cafe,  who  repeated 
it  to  the  journalists  of  the  Left. 

Philippe  did  not  go  back  to  the  rue  Mazarin  ;  he  went 
toMariette  and  told  her  of  his  forthcoming  appointment 


The  Two  Brothers.  61 

on  a  newspaper  with  ten  thousand  subscribers,  in  which 
her  choregraphic  claims  should  be  warmly  advanced. 

Agathe  and  Madame  Descoings  waited  up  for  Phil- 
ippe in  fear  and  trembling,  for  the  Due  de  Berry  had  just 
been  assassinated.  The  colonel  came  home  a  few  min- 
utes after  breakfast ;  and  when  his  mother  showed  her 
uneasiness  at  his  absence,  he  grew  angry  and  asked  if  he 
were  not  of  age. 

"  In  the  name  of  thunder,  what's  all  this  !  here  have 
I  brought  you  some  good  news,  and  you  both  look  like 
tombstones.  The  Due  de  Berry  is  dead,  is  he?  —  well, 
so  much  the  better!  that's  one  the  less,  at  any  rate. 
As  for  me,  I  am  to  be  cashier  of  a  newspaper,  with  a 
salary  of  three  thousand  francs,  and  there  you  are,  out 
of  all  your  anxeties  on  my  account." 

"Is  it  possible?"  cried  Agathe. 

"  Yes  ;  provided  you  can  go  security  for  me  in  twenty 
thousand  francs ;  you  need  only  deposit  3-our  shares  in 
the  Funds,  you  will  draw  the  interest  all  the  same." 

The  two  widows,  who  for  nearly  two  months  had  been 
desperatel}'  anxious  to  find  out  what  Philippe  was  about, 
and  how  he  could  be  provided  for,  were  so  overjoyed 
at  this  prospect  that  the}'  gave  no  thought  to  their  other 
catastrophes.  That  evening,  the  Grecian  sages,  old 
Du  Bruel,  Claparon,  whose  health  was  failing,  and  the 
inflexible  Desroches  were  unanimous ;  they  all  advised 
Madame  Bridau  to  go  security  for  her  son.  The  new 
journal,  which  fortunately  was  started  before  the  assas- 
sination of  the  Due  de  Berry,  just  escaped  the  blow 
which  Monsieur  Decazes  then  launched  at  the  press. 
Madame  Bridau's  shares  in  the  Funds,  representing 
thirteen  hundred  francs'  interest,  were  transferred  as 
security  for  Philippe,  who  was  then  appointed  cashier. 


62  The  Two  Brothers. 

That  good  son  at  once  promised  to  pay  one  hundred 
francs  every  month  to  the  two  widows,  for  his  board  and 
lodging,  and  was  declared  by  both  to  be  the  best  of 
sons.  Those  who  had  thought  ill  of  him  now  con- 
gratulated Agathe. 

"  We  were  unjust  to  him,"  they  said. 

Poor  Joseph,  not  to  be  behind  his  brother  in  generos- 
fty,  resolved  to  pay  for  his  own  support,  and  succeeded. 


The  Two  Brothers.  63 


IV. 


Three  months  later,  the  colonel,  who  ate  and  drank 
enough  for  four  men,  finding  fault  with  the  food  and 
compelling  the  poor  widows,  on  the  score  of  his  pay- 
ments, to  spend  much  money  on  their  table,  had  not 
yet  paid  down  a  single  penny.  His  mother  and  Ma- 
dame Descoings  were  unwilling,  out  of  delicacj',  to  re- 
mind him  of  his  promise.  The  year  went  by  without 
one  of  those  coins  which  Leon  Gozlan  so  vigorously 
calls  "  tigers  with  five  claws "  finding  its  wa}T  from 
Philippe's  pocket  to  the  household  purse.  It  is  true 
that  the  colonel  quieted  his  conscience  on  this  score  by 
seldom  dining  at  home. 

"  Well,  he  is  happy,"  said  his  mother;  "  he  is  easy 
in  mind  ;  he  has  a  place." 

Through  the  influence  of  a  feuilleton,  edited  by  Ver- 
non, a  friend  of  Bixiou,  Finot,  and  Giroudeau,  Mariette 
made  her  appearance,  not  at  the  Panorama-Dramatique 
but  at  the  Porte-Saint-Martin,  where  she  triumphed 
beside  the  famous  Begrand.  Among  the  directors  of 
the  theatre  was  a  rich  and  luxurious  general  officer, 
in  love  with  an  actress,  for  whose  sake  he  had  made 
himself  an  impresario.  In  Paris,  we  frequently  meet 
with  men  so  fascinated  with  actresses,  singers,  or 
ballet-dancers,  that  they  are  willing  to  become  directors 
of  a  theatre  out  of  love.  This  officer  knew  Philippe 
and  Giroudeau.  Mariette's  first  appearance,  heralded 
already  by  Finot's  journal  and  also  by  Philippe's,  was 


G4  The  Tivo  Brothers. 

promptly  arranged  by  the  three  officers  ;  for  there  seems 
to  be  solidarity  among  the  passions  in  a  matter  of  folly. 

The  mischievous  Bixiou  was  not  long  in  revealing  to 
his  grandmother  and  the  devoted  Agathe  that  Philippe, 
the  cashier,  the  hero  of  heroes,  was  in  love  with  Mari- 
ette,  the  celebrated  ballet-dancer  at  the  Porte-Saint- 
Martin.  The  news  was  a  thunder-clap  to  the  two 
widows ;  Agathe's  religious  principles  taught  her  to 
think  that  all  women  on  the  stage  were  brands  in  the 
burning ;  moreover,  she  thought,  and  so  did  Madame 
Descoings,  that  women  of  that  kind  dined  off  gold, 
drank  pearls,  and  wasted  fortunes. 

"  Now  do  you  suppose,"  said  Joseph  to  his  mother, 
"  that  my  brother  is  such  a  fool  as  to  spend  his  money 
on  Mariette?     Such  women  only  ruin  rich  men." 

"  They  talk  of  engaging  Mariette  at  the  Opera,"  said 
Bixiou.  "  Don't  be  worried,  Madame  Bridau  ;  the  dip- 
lomatic body  often  comes  to  Porte-Saint-Martin,  and 
that  handsome  girl  won't  stay  long  with  your  son.  I 
did  hear  that  an  ambassador  was  madl}'  in  love  with 
her.  By  the  bye,  another  piece  of  news  !  Old  Claparon 
is  dead,  and  his  son,  who  has  become  a  banker,  has 
ordered  the  cheapest  kind  of  funeral  for  him.  That 
fellow  has  no  education  ;  the}'  would  n't  behave  like  that 
in  China." 

Philippe,  prompted  by  mercenary  motives,  proposed 
to  Mariette  that  she  should  marry  him  ;  but  she,  know- 
ing herself  on  the  eve  of  an  engagement  at  the  Grand 
Opera,  refused  the  offer,  either  because  she  guessed 
the  colonel's  motive,  or  because  she  saw  how  impor- 
tant her  independence  would  be  to  her  future  fortune. 
For  the  remainder  of  this  year,  Philippe  never  came 
more  than   twice  a  month  to  see  his  mother.     Where 


The  Two  Brothers.  65 

was  he?  Either  at  his  office,  or  the  theatre,  or  with 
Mariette.  No  light  whatever  as  to  his  conduct  reached 
the  household  in  the  rue  Mazarin.  Giroudeau,  Finot, 
Bixiou,  Vernon,  Lousteau,  saw  him  leading  a  life  of 
pleasure.  Philippe  shared  the  gay  amusements  of  Tul- 
lia,  a  leading  singer  at  the  Opera,  of  Florentine,  who 
took  Mariette's  place  at  the  Porte-Saint-Martin,  of 
Florine  and  Matifat,  Coralie  and  Cam u sot.  After  four 
o'clock,  when  he  left  his  office,  until  midnight,  he 
amused  himself;  some  party  of  pleasure  had  usually 
been  arranged  the  night  before, — a  good  dinner,  a 
card-party,  a  supper  by  some  one  or  other  of  the  set. 
Philippe  was  in  his  element. 

This  carnival,  which  lasted  eighteen  months,  was  not 
altogether  without  its  troubles.  The  beautiful  Mariette 
no  sooner  appeared  at  the  Opera,  in  Januaiy,  1821, 
than  she  captured  one  of  the  most  distinguished  dukes 
of  the  court  of  Louis  XVIII.  Philippe  tried  to  make 
head  against  the  peer,  and  b}r  the  month  of  April  he 
was  compelled  03-  his  passion,  notwithstanding  some  luck 
at  cards,  to  dip  into  the  funds  of  which  he  was  cashier. 
By  May  he  had  taken  eleven  hundred  francs.  In  that 
fatal  month  Mariette  started  for  London,  to  see  what 
could  be  done  with  the  lords  while  the  temporary  opera 
house  in  the  Hotel  Choiseul,  rue  Lepelletier,  was  being 
prepared.  The  luckless  Philippe  had  ended,  as  often 
happens,  in  loving  Mariette  notwithstanding  her  flagrant 
infidelities  ;  she  herself  had  never  thought  him  anything 
but  a  dull-minded,  brutal  soldier,  the  first  rung  of  a 
ladder  on  which  she  never  intended  to  remain  long. 
So,  foreseeing  the  time  when  Philippe  would  have  spent 
all  his  money,  she  captured  other  journalistic  support 
which  released  her  from  the  necessity  of  depending  on 


6G  The  Two  Brothers. 

him ;  nevertheless,  she  did  feel  the  peculiar  gratitude 
that  class  of  women  acknowledge  towards  the  first  man 
who  smooths  their  way,  as  it  were,  among  the  difficulties 
and  horrors  of  a  theatrical  career. 

Forced  to  let  his  terrible  mistress  go  to  London  with- 
out him,  Philippe  went  into  winter  quarters,  as  he  called 
it,  — that  is,  he  returned  to  his  attic  room  in  his  moth- 
er's appartement.  He  made  some  gloomy  reflections  as 
he  went  to  bed  that  night,  and  when  he  got  up  again.  He 
was  conscious  within  himself  of  the  inability  to  live  other- 
wise than  as  he  had  been  living  the  last  }Tear.  The  luxur}* 
that  surrounded  Mariette,  the  dinners,  the  suppers,  the 
evenings  in  the  side-scenes,  the  animation  of  wits  and 
journalists,  the  sort  of  racket  that  went  on  around  him, 
the  delights  that  tickled  both  his  senses  and  his  vanity, 
—  such  a  life,  found  only  in  Paris,  and  offering  daily  the 
charm  of  some  new  thing,  was  now  more  than  habit,  — 
it  had  become  to  Philippe  as  much  a  necessity  as  his 
tobacco  or  his  brandy.  He  saw  plainly  that  he  could 
not  live  without  these  continual  enjoyments.  The  idea 
of  suicide  came  into  his  head  ;  not  on  account  of  the 
deficit  which  must  soon  be  discovered  in  his  accounts, 
but  because  he  could  no  longer  live  with  Mariette  in  the 
atmosphere  of  pleasure  in  which  he  had  disported  him- 
self for  over  a  year.  Full  of  these  gloomy  thoughts,  he 
entered  for  the  first  time  his  brother's  painting- room, 
where  he  found  the  painter  in  a  blue  blouse,  copying  a 
picture  for  a  dealer. 

"  So  that's  how  pictures  are  made,"  said  Philippe, 
by  way  of  opening  the  conversation. 

u  No,'*  said  Joseph,  "  that  is  how  the}'  are  copied." 

"  How  much  do  they  pay  you  for  that?  " 

u  Eh !  never  enough  ;  two  hundred  and  fifty  francs. 


The  Two  Brothers.  67 

But  T  study  the  manner  of  the  masters  and  learn  a 
great  deal ;  I  find  out  the  secrets  of  their  method. 
There's  one  of  my  own  pictures,"  he  added,  pointing 
with  the  end  of  his  brudi  to  a  sketch  with  the  colors 
still  moist. 

44  How  much  do  you  pocket  in  a  year?  " 

44  Unfortunately,  I  am  known  only  to  painters. 
Schinner  backs  me ;  and  he  has  got  me  some  work  at 
the  Chateau  de  Presles,  where  I  am  going  in  October 
to  do  some  arabesques,,  panels,  and  other  decorations, 
for  which  the  Comte  de  Seriz}7,  no  doubt,  will  pay  well. 
With  such  trifles  and  with  orders  from  the  dealers,  I 
may  manage  to  earn  eighteen  hundred  to  two  thousand 
francs  a  year  over  and  above  the  working  expenses. 
I  shall  send  that  picture  to  the  next  exhibition  ;  if  it 
hits  the  public  taste,  my  fortune  is  made.  My  friends 
think  well  of  it." 

44 1  don't  know  anything  about  such  things,"  said 
Philippe,  in  a  subdued  voice  which  caused  Joseph  to 
turn  and  look  at  him. 

44  What  is  the  matter?"  said  the  artist,  seeing  that 
his  brother  was  very  pale. 

4  4 1  should  like  to  know  how  long  it  would  take  }Tou 
to  paint  my  portrait  ?  " 

44  If  I  worked  steadily,  and  the  weather  were  clear,  I 
could  finish  it  in  three  or  four  da}'S." 

44  That 's  too  long  ;  I  have  only  one  day  to  give  you. 
My  poor  mother  loves  me  so  much  that  I  wished  to 
leave  her  my  likeness.  We  will  say  no  more  about 
it." 

44  Why  !  are  yow  going  away  again  ?  " 

44 1  am  going  never  to  return,"  replied  Philippe  with 
an  air  of  forced  gayety. 


68  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Look  here,  Philippe,  what  is  the  matter?  If  it  is 
anything  serious,  I  am  a  man  and  not  a  ninn}*.  I  am  ac- 
customed to  hard  struggles,  and  if  discretion  is  needed, 
I  have  it." 

"  Are  you  sure?" 

"  On  my  honor." 

"  You  will  tell  no  one,  no  matter  who?" 

"  No  one." 

"  Well,  I  am  going  to  blow  my  brains  out." 

"  You  !  —  are  you  going  to  fight  a  duel?" 

"lain  going  to  kill  myself." 

"Why?" 

" 1  have  taken  eleven  hundred  francs  from  the  funds 
in  my  hands ;  I  have  got  to  send  in  my  accounts  to- 
morrow morning.  Half  my  security  is  lost ;  our  poor 
mother  will  be  reduced  to  six  hundred  francs  a  year. 
That  would  be  nothing !  I  could  make  a  fortune  for 
her  later ;  but  I  am  dishonored  !  I  cannot  live  under 
dishonor  —  " 

"  You  will  not  be  dishonored  if  it  is  paid  back.  To 
be  sure,  you  will  lose  your  place,  and  you  will  only  have 
the  five  hundred  francs  a  year  from  your  cross  ;  but 
you  can  live  on  five  hundred  francs." 

"Farewell!"  said  Philippe,  running  rapidly  down- 
stairs, and  not  waiting  to  hear  another  word. 

Joseph  left  his  studio  and  went  down  to  breakfast 
with  his  mother ;  but  Philippe's  confession  had  taken 
away  his  appetite.  He  took  Madame  Descoings  aside 
and  told  her  the  terrible  news.  The  old  woman  made 
a  frightened  exclamation,  let  fall  the  saucepan  of  milk 
she  had  in  her  hand,  and  flung  herself  into  a  chair. 
Agathe  rushed  in  ;  from  one  exclamation  to  another 
the  mother  gathered  the  fatal  truth. 


The  Two  Brothers.  69 

"  He!  to  fail  in  honor!  the  son  of  Bridau  take  the 
money  that  was  trusted  to  him !  " 

The  widow  trembled  in  every  limb  ;  her  ej'es  dilated 
and  then  grew  fixed  ;  she  sat  down  and  burst  into 
tears. 

4 4  Where  is  he?"  she  cried  amid  her  sobs.  u  Per- 
haps he  has  flung  himself  into  the  Seine." 

44  You  must  not  give  up  all  hope,"  said  Madame 
Descoings,  44  because  a  poor  lad  has  met  with  a  bad 
woman  who  has  led  him  to  do  wrong.  Dear  me !  we 
see  that  every  day.  Philippe  has  had  such  misfor- 
tunes !  he  has  had  so  little  chance  to  be  happy  and 
loved  that  we  ought  not  to  be  surprised  at  his  passion 
for  that  creature.  All  passions  lead  to  excess.  My 
own  life  is  not  without  reproach  of  that  kind,  and  yet 
I  call  myself  an  honest  woman.  A  single  fault  is  not 
vice  ;  and  after  all,  it  is  only  those  who  do  nothing  that 
are  never  deceived." 

'  Agathe's  despair  overcame  her  so  much  that  Joseph 
and  the  Descoings  were  obliged  to  lessen  Philippe's 
wrong-doing  by  assuring  her  that  such  things  happened 
in  all  families. 

44  But  he  is  twenty-eight  years  old,"  cried  Agathe ; 
44  he  is  no  longer  a  child." 

Terrible  revelation  of  the  inward  thought  of  the  poor 
woman  on  the  conduct  of  her  son. 

44  Mother,  I  assure  you  he  thought  only  of  }our  suffer- 
ing and  of  the  wrong  he  had  done  you,"  said  Joseph. 

44  Oh,  nry  God  !  let  him  come  back  to  me,  let  him 
live,  and  I  will  forgive  all,"  cried  the  poor  mother,  to 
whose  mind  a  horrible  vision  of  Philippe  dragged  dead 
out  of  the  river  presented  itself. 

Gloomy  silence  reigned  for  a  short  time.     The  day 


70  The  Two  Brothers. 

went  by  with  cruel  alternations  of  hope  and  fear ;  all 
three  ran  to  the  window  at  the  least  sound,  and  gave 
way  to  every  sort  of  conjecture.  While  the  family  were 
thus  grieving,  Philippe  was  quietly  getting  matters  in 
order  at  his  office.  He  had  the  audacity  to  give  in  his 
accounts  with  a  statement  that,  fearing  some  accident,  he 
had  retained  eleven  hundred  francs  at  his  own  house  for 
safe  keeping.  The  scoundrel  left  the  office  at  five 
o'clock,  taking  five  hundred  francs  more  from  the  desk, 
and  coolly  went  to  a  gambling-house  ;  which  he  had  not 
entered  since  his  connection  with  the  paper,  for  he  knew 
veiy  well  that  a  cashier  must  not  be  seen  to  frequent 
such  a  place.  The  fellow  was  not  wanting  in  acumen. 
His  past  conduct  proved  that  he  derived  more  from  his 
grandfather  Rouget  than  from  his  virtuous  sire,  Bridau. 
Perhaps  he  might  have  made  a  good  general ;  but  in 
private  life,  he  was  one  of  those  utter  scoundrels  who  shel- 
ter their  schemes  and  their  evil  actions  behind  a  screen 
of  strict  legality,  and  the  privacy  of  the  family  roof. 

At  this  conjuncture  Philippe  maintained  his  coolness. 
He  won  at  first,  and  gained  as  much  as  six  thousand 
francs  ;  but  he  let  himself  be  dazzled  by  the  idea  of 
getting  out  of  his  difficulties  at  one  stroke.  He  left  the 
trente-et-quarante,  hearing  that  the  black  had  come  up 
sixteen  times  at  the  roulette  table,  and  was  about  to 
put  five  thousand  francs  on  the  red,  when  the  black 
came  up  for  the  seventeenth  time.  The  colonel  then 
put  a  thousand  francs  on  the  black  and  won.  In  spite 
of  this  remarkable  piece  of  luck,  his  head  grew  weary ; 
he  felt  it,  though  he  continued  to  play.  But  that  divin- 
ing sense  which  leads  a  gambler,  and  which  comes  in 
flashes,  was  already  failing  him.  Intermittent  percep- 
tions, so   fatal  to   all  gamblers,  set  in.     Lucidity  of 


The  Two  Brothers.  71 

mind,  like  the  rays  of  the  sun,  can  have  no  effect  except 
by  the  continuity  of  a  direct  line  ;  it  can  divine  only  on 
condition  of  not  breaking  that  line ;  the  curvettings  of 
chance  bemuddle  it.  Philippe  lost  all.  After  such  a 
strain,  the  careless  mind  as  well  as  the  bravest  weakens. 
When  Philippe  went  home  that  night  he  was  not  thinking 
of  suicide,  for  he  had  never  realty  meant  to  kill  himself; 
he  no  longer  thought  of  his  lost  place,  nor  of  the  sacri- 
ficed securit}',  nor  of  his  mother,  nor  of  Mariette,  the 
cause  of  his  ruin ;  he  walked  along  mechanically. 
When  he  got  home,  his  mother  in  tears,  Madame  Des- 
coings,  and  Joseph,  all  fell  on  his  neck  and  kissed  him 
and  brought  him  joyfully  to  a  seat  by  the  fire. 

"  Bless  me  !  "  thought  he,  **  the  threat  has  worked." 

The  brute  at  once  assumed  an  air  suitable  to  the 
occasion  ;  all  the  more  easily,  because  his  ill-luck  at 
cards  had  deeply  depressed  him.  Seeing  her  atrocious 
Benjamin  so  pale  and  woe-begone,  the  poor  mother 
knelt  beside  him,  kissed  his  hands,  pressed  them  to  her 
heart,  and  gazed  at  him  for  a  long  time  with  eyes 
swimming  in  tears. 

"Philippe,"  she  said,  in  a  choking  voice,  "promise 
not  to  kill  yourself,  and  all  shall  be  forgotten." 

Philippe  looked  at  his  sorrowing  brother  and  at 
Madame  Descoings,  whose  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and 
thought  to  himself,  "  They  are  good  creatures."  Then 
he  took  his  mother  in  his  arms,  raised  her  and  put 
her  on  his  knee,  pressed  her  to  his  heart  and  whis- 
pered as  he  kissed  her,  "  For  the  second  time,  you  give 
me  life." 

The  Descoings  managed  to  serve  an  excellent  dinner, 
and  to  add  two  bottles  of  old  wine  with  a  little  liqueur 
des  ties,  a  treasure  left  over  from  her  former  business. 


72  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Agathe,"  she  said  at  dessert,  "we  must  let  him 
smoke  his  cigars,"  and  she  offered  some  to  Philippe. 

These  two  poor  creatures  fancied  that  if  they  let  the 
fellow  take  his  ease,  he  would  like  his  home  and  sta}-  in 
it ;  both,  therefore,  tried  to  endure  his  tobacco-smoke, 
though  each  loathed  it.  That  sacrifice  was  not  so  much 
as  noticed  by  Philippe. 

On  the  morrow,  Agathe  looked  ten  years  older.  Her 
terrors  calmed,  reflection  came  back  to  her,  and  the 
poor  woman  had  not  closed  an  e3^e  throughout  that 
horrible  night.  She  was  now  reduced  to  six  hundred 
francs  a  year.  Madame  Descoings,  like  all  fat  women 
fond  of  good  eating,  was  growing  heav}r ;  her  step  on 
the  staircase  sounded  like  the  chopping  of  logs  ;  she 
might  die  at  airy  moment ;  with  her  life,  four  thousand 
francs  would  disappear.  What  folly  to  rely  on  that 
resource  !  What  should  she  do  ?  What  would  become 
of  them  ?  With  her  mind  made  up  to  become  a  sick- 
nurse  rather  than  be  supported  b^y  her  children,  Agathe 
did  not  think  of  herself.  But  Philippe?  what  would  he 
do  if  reduced  to  live  on  the  five  hundred  francs  of  an 
officer  of  the  Legion  of  honor?  During  the  past  eleven 
years,  Madame  Descoings,  by  giving  up  three  thousand 
francs  a  year,  had  paid  her  debt  twice  over,  but  she  still 
continued  to  sacrifice  her  grandson's  interests  to  those 
of  the  Bridau  family.  Though  all  Agathe's  honorable 
and  upright  feelings  were  shocked  by  this  terrible  dis- 
aster, she  said  to  herself:  "  Poor  boy  !  is  it  his  fault? 
He  is  faithful  to  his  oath.  I  have  done  wrong  not  to 
many  him.  If  I  had  found  him  a  wife,  he  would  not 
have  got  entangled  with  this  danseuse.  He  has  such  a 
vigorous  constitution  —  " 

Madame  Descoings  had  likewise  reflected  during  the 


The  Two  Brothers.  73 

night  as  to  the  best  way  of  saving  the  honor  of  the 
family.  At  daybreak,  she  got  out  of  bed  and  went  to 
her  friend's  room. 

"  Neither  you  nor  Philippe  should  manage  this  deli- 
cate matter,"  she  said.  M  Our  two  old  friends  Du 
Bruel  and  Claparon  are  dead,  but  we  still  have  Des- 
roches,  who  is  very  sagacious.  I'll  go  and  see  him 
this  morning.  He  can  tell  the  newspaper  people  that 
Philippe  trusted  a  friend  and  has  been  made  a  victim  ; 
that  his  weakness  in  such  respects  makes  him  unfit  to 
be  a  cashier  ;  what  has  now  happened  may  happen  again, 
and  that  Philippe  prefers  to  resign.  That  will  prevent 
his  being  turned  off. " 

Agathe,  seeing  that  this  business  lie  would  save  the 
honor  of  her  son,  at  an}'  rate  in  the  eyes  of  strangers, 
kissed  Madame  Descoings,  who  went  out  early  to  make 
an  end  of  the  dreadful  affair. 

Philippe,  meanwhile,  had  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
just.  "  She  is  sly,  that  old  woman,"  he  remarked, 
when  his  mother  explained  to  him  why  breakfast  was 
late. 

Old  Desroches,  the  last  remaining  friend  of  these 
two  poor  women,  who,  in  spite  of  his  harsh  nature, 
never  forgot  that  Bridau  had  obtained  for  him  his  place, 
fulfilled  like  an  accomplished  diplomat  the  delicate  mis- 
sion Madame  Descoings  had  confided  to  him.  He  came 
to  dine  that  evening  with  the  famil}*,  and  notified  Agathe 
that  she  must  go  the  next  day  to  the  Treasury,  rue 
Vivienne,  sign  the  transfer  of  the  funds  involved,  and 
obtain  a  coupon  for  the  six  hundred  francs  a  year  which 
still  remained  to  her.  The  old  clerk  did  not  leave  the 
afflicted  household  that  night  without  obliging  Philippe 
to  sign  a  petition  to  the  minister  of  war,  asking  for  his 


74  The  Two  Brothers. 

reinstatement  in  the  active  army.  Desroches  promised 
the  two  women  to  follow  up  the  petition  at  the  war  office, 
and  to  profit  by  the  triumph  of  a  certain  duke  over 
Philippe  in  the  matter  of  the  danseuse,  and  so  obtain 
that  nobleman's  influence. 

"  Philippe  will  be  lieutenant-colonel  in  the  Due  de 
Maufrigneuse's  regiment  within  three  months,"  he  de- 
clared, "and  you  will  be  rid  of  him." 

Desroches  went  away,  smothered  with  blessings  from 
the  two  poor  widows  and  Joseph.  As  to  the  newspaper, 
it  ceased  to  exist  at  the  end  of  two  months,  just  as 
Finot  had  predicted.  Philippe's  crime  had,  therefore, 
so  far  as  the  world  knew,  no  consequences.  But 
Agathe's  motherhood  had  received  a  deadly  wound. 
Her  belief  in  her  son  once  shaken,  she  lived  in  per- 
petual fear,  mingled  with  some  satisfactions,  as  she  saw 
her  worst  apprehensions  unrealized. 

When  men  like  Philippe,  who  are  endowed  with 
physical  courage  and  }*et  are  cowardly  and  ignoble  in 
their  moral  being,  see  matters  and  things  resuming  their 
accustomed  course  about  them  after  some  catastrophe  in 
which  their  honor  and  decency  is  wellnigh  lost,  such 
family  kindness,  or  any  show  of  friendliness  towards 
them  is  a  premium  of  encouragement.  They  count  on 
impunity ;  their  minds  distorted,  their  passions  grati- 
fied, only  prompt  them  to  study  how  it  happened  that 
they  succeeded  in  getting  round  all  social  laws;  the 
result  is  they  become  alarmingly  adroit. 

A  fortnight  later,  Philippe,  once  more  a  man  of 
leisure,  laz}7  and  bored,  renewed  his  fatal  cafe  life,  —  his 
drams,  his  long  games  of  billiards  embellished  with 
punch,  his  nightty  resort  to  the  gambling-table,  where 
he  risked  some  trifling  stake  and  won  enough  to  pay 


The  Two  Brothers,  75 

for  his  dissipations.  Apparently  very  economical,  the 
better  to  deceive  his  mother  and  Madame  Descoings,  he 
wore  a  hat  that  was  greasy,  with  the  nap  rubbed  off  at  the 
edges,  patched  boots,  a  shabby  overcoat,  on  which  the  red 
ribbon  scarcely  showed  so  discolored  and  dirt}'  was  it  by 
long  service  at  the  buttonhole  and  by  the  spatterings  of 
coffee  and  liquors.  His  buckskin  gloves,  of  a  greenish 
tinge,  lasted  him  a  long  while  ;  and  he  only  gave  up  his 
satin  neckcloth  when  it  was  ragged  enough  to  look  like 
wadding.  Mariette  was  the  sole  object  of  the  fellow's 
love,  and  her  treacher}^  had  greatly  hardened  his  heart. 
When  he  happened  to  win  more  than  usual,  or  if  he 
supped  with  his  old  comrade,  Giroudeau,  he  followed 
some  Venus  of  the  slums,  with  brutal  contempt  for  the 
whole  sex.  Otherwise  regular  in  his  habits,  he  break- 
fasted and  dined  at  home  and  came  in  every  night  about 
one  o'clock.  Three  months  of  this  horrible  life  restored 
Agathe  to  some  degree  of  confidence. 

As  for  Joseph,  who  was  working  at  the  splendid  pict- 
ure to  which  he  afterwards  owed  his  reputation,  he  lived 
in  his  atelier.  On  the  prediction  of  her  grandson  Bixiou, 
Madame  Descoings  believed  in  Joseph's  future  glory, 
and  she  showed  him  every  sort  of  motherly  kindness ; 
she  took  his  breakfast  to  him,  she  did  his  errands,  she 
blacked  his  boots.  The  painter  was  never  seen  till 
dinner-time,  and  his  evenings  were  spent  at  the  Cenacle 
among  his  friends.  He  read  a  great  deal,  and  gave 
himself  that  deep  and  serious  education  which  only 
comes  through  the  mind  itself,  and  which  all  men  of 
talent  strive  after  between  the  ages  of  twent}-  and  thirty. 
Agathe,  seeing  very  little  of  Joseph,  and  feeling  no  un- 
easiness about  him,  lived  only  for  Philippe,  who  gave  her 
the  alternations  of  fears  excited  and  terrors  allayed, 


76  The  Two  Brothers. 

which  seem  the  life,  as  it  were,  of  sentiment,  and  to  be 
as  necessary  to  maternit}^  as  to  love.  Desroches,  who 
came  once  a  week  to  see  the  widow  of  his  patron  and 
friend,  gave  her  hopes.  The  Due  de  Maufrigneuse  had 
asked  to  have  Philippe  in  his  regiment ;  the  minister  of 
war  had  ordered  an  inquiry  ;  and  as  the  name  of  Bridau 
did  not  appear  on  any  police  list,  nor  on  any  record  at 
the  Palais  de  Justice,  Philippe  would  be  reinstated  in 
the  army  early  in  the  coming  year. 

To  arrive  at  this  result,  Desroches  set  all  the  powers 
that  he  could  influence  in  motion.  At  the  prefecture  of 
police  he  learned  that  Philippe  spent  his  evenings  in  a 
gambling-house  ;  and  he  thought  it  best  to  tell  this  fact 
privately  to  Madame  Descoings,  exhorting  her  keep  an 
eye  on  the  lieutenant-colonel,  for  one  outbreak  would 
imperil  all ;  as  it  was,  the  minister  of  war  was  not  likely 
to  inquire  whether  Philippe  gambled.  Once  restored  to 
his  rank  under  the  flag  of  his  country,  he  would  perhaps 
abandon  a  vice  only  taken  up  from  idleness.  Agathe, 
who  no  longer  received  her  friends  in  the  evening,  sat 
in  the  chimnej'-corner  reading  her  pikers,  while 
Madame  Descoings  consulted  the  cards,  interpreted  her 
dreams,  and  applied  the  rules  of  the  "  cabala  "  to  her 
lottery  ventures.  This  jovial  fanatic  never  missed  a 
single  drawing ;  she  still  pursued  her  tre}*,  —  which 
never  turned  up.  It  was  nearly  twent3'-one  years  old, 
just  approaching  its  majority  ;  on  this  ridiculous  idea 
the  old  woman  now  pinned  her  faith.  One  of  its  three 
numbers  had  stayed  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  wheels  ever 
since  the  institution  of  the  lottery.  Accordingly,  Ma- 
dame Descoings  laid  heavy  stakes  on  that  particular 
number,  as  well  as  on  all  the  combinations  of  the  three 
numbers.     The  last  mattress  remaining  to  her  bed  was 


The  Two  Brothers.  77 

the  place  where  she  stored  her  savings ;  she  unsewed 
the  ticking,  pat  in  from  time  to  time  the  bit  of  gold 
saved  from  her  needs,  wrapped  carefully  in  wool,  and 
then  sewed  the  mattress  up  again.  She  intended,  at 
the  last  drawing,  to  risk  all  her  savings  on  the  different 
combinations  of  her  treasured  trey. 

This  passion,  so  universally  condemned,  has  never 
been  fairly  studied.  No  one  has  understood  this  opium 
of  poverty.  The  lottery,  all-powerful  fairy  of  the  poor, 
bestowed  the  gift  of  magic  hopes.  The  turn  of  the  wheel 
which  opens  to  the  gambler  a  vista  of  gold  and  happi- 
ness, lasts  no  longer  than  a  flash  of  lightning,  but  the 
lotteiy  gave  five  days'  existence  to  that  magnificent 
flash.  What  social  power  can  to-da}T,  for  the  sum  of 
five  sous,  give  us  five  dajV  happiness  and  launch  us 
ideally  into  all  the  joys  of  civilization?  Tobacco,  a 
craving  far  more  immoral  than  play,  destroys  the  body, 
attacks  the  mind,  and  stupefies  a  nation  ;  while  the  lotteiy 
did  nothing  of  the  kind.  This  passion,  moreover,  was 
forced  to  keep  within  limits  by  the  long  periods  that 
occurred  between  the  drawings,  and  by  the  choice  of 
wheels  which  each  investor  individually  clung  to. 
Madame  Descoings  never  staked  on  any  but  the  M  wheel 
of  Paris."  Full  of  confidence  that  the  trey  cherished 
for  twenty-one  years  was  about  to  triumph,  she  now 
imposed  upon  herself  enormous  privations,  that  she 
might  stake  a  large  amount  of  savings  upon  the  last 
drawing  of  the  year.  When  she  dreamed  her  cabalistic 
visions  (for  all  dreams  did  not  correspond  with  the 
numbers  of  the  lottery),  she  went  and  told  them  to 
Joseph,  who  was  the  sole  being  who  would  listen,  and 
not  only  not  scold  her,  but  give  her  the  kindly  words 
with  which  an  artist  knows  how  to  soothe  the  follies  of 


78  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  mind.  All  great  talents  respect  and  understand  a 
real  passion  ;  the}'  explain  it  to  themselves  by  finding 
the  roots  of  it  in  their  own  hearts  or  minds.  Joseph's 
idea  was,  that  his  brother  loved  tobacco  and  liquors, 
Maman  Descoings  loved  her  trey,  his  mother  loved 
God,  Desroches  the  younger  loved  lawsuits,  Desroches 
the  elder  loved  angling,  —  in  short,  all  the  world,  he 
said,  loved  something.  He  himself  loved  the  beau  ideal 
in  all  things ;  he  loved  the  poetry  of  Lord  B}Ton,  the 
painting  of  Gericault,  the  music  of  Rossini,  the  novels 
of  Walter  Scott.  "  Eveiy  one  to  his  taste,  maman," 
he  would  say  ;   "  but  your  trey  does  hang  fire  terribly." 

"It  will  turn  up,  and  you  will  be  rich,  and  nry  little 
Bixiou  as  well." 

"  Give  it  all  to  your  grandson,"  cried  Joseph  ;  "  at 
any  rate,  do  what  you  like  best  with  it." 

"He}'!  when  it  turns  up  I  shall  have  enough  for 
everybody.  In  the  first  place,  }xm  shall  have  a  fine 
atelier ;  3011  sha'n't  deprive  }Tourself  of  going  to  the 
opera  sq  as  to  pay  for  3'our  models  and  your  colors. 
Do  30U  know,  my  dear  bo}',  30U  make  me  play  a  pretty 
shabby  part  in  that  picture  of  3'ours  ?  " 

By  way  of  econoim',  Joseph  had  made  the  Descoings 
pose  for  his  magnificent  picture  of  a  young  courtesan 
taken  bjT  an  old  woman  to  a  Doge  of  Venice.  This 
picture,  one  of  the  masterpieces  of  modern  painting, 
was  mistaken  by  Gros  himself  for  a  Titian,  and  it  paved 
the  way  for  the  recognition  which  the  younger  artists 
gave  to  Joseph's  talent  in  the  Salon  of  1823. 

"Those  who  know  }Tou  know  very  well  what  3011 
are,"  he  answered  gaylj\  "Why  need  }*ou  trouble 
yourself  about  those  who  don't  know  you?" 

For  the  last  ten  yean  Madame  Descoings  had  taken 


The  Two  Brothers.  79 

on  the  ripe  tints  of  a  russet  apple  at  Easter.  Wrinkles 
had  formed  in  her  superabundant  flesh,  now  grown  pal- 
lid and  flabby.  Her  eyes,  full  of  life,  were  bright  with 
thoughts  that  were  still  young  and  vivacious,  and  might 
be  considered  grasping ;  for  there  is  always  something 
of  that  spirit  in  a  gambler.  Her  fat  face  bore  traces  of 
dissimulation  and  of  the  mental  reservations  hidden  in 
the  depths  of  her  heart.  Her  vice  necessitated  secresy. 
There  were  also  indications  of  gluttony  in  the  motion 
of  her  lips.  And  thus,  although  she  was,  as  we  have 
seen,  an  excellent  and  upright  woman,  the  eye  might 
be  misled  by  her  appearance.  She  was  an  admirable 
model  for  the  old  woman  Joseph  wished  to  paint.  Co- 
ralie,  a  young  actress  of  exquisite  beauty  who  died  in 
the  flower  of  her  youth,  the  mistress  of  Lucien  de  Ru- 
bempre,  one  of  Joseph's  friends,  had  given  him  the  idea 
of  the  picture.  This  noble  painting  has  been  called  a 
plagiarism  of  other  pictures,  while  in  fact  it  was  a  splen- 
did arrangement  of  three  portraits.  Michel  Chrestien, 
one  of  his  companions  at  the  Cenacle,  lent  his  republi- 
can head  for  the  senator,  to  which  Joseph  added  a  few 
mature  tints,  just  as  he  exaggerated  the  expression  of 
Madame  Deseoings's  features.  This  fine  picture,  which 
was  destined  to  make  a  great  noise  and  bring  the  art- 
ist much  hatred,  jealousj-,  and  admiration,  was  just 
sketched  out ;  but,  compelled  as  he  was  to  work  for  a 
living,  he  laid  it  aside  to  make  copies  of  the  old  masters 
for  the  dealers ;  thus  he  penetrated  the  secret  of  their 
processes,  and  his  brush  is  therefore  one  of  the  best 
trained  of  the  modern  school.  The  shrewd  sense  of  an 
artist  led  him  to  conceal  the  profits  he  was  beginning  io 
lay  by  from  his  mother  and  Madame  Descoings,  aware 
that  each  had  her  road  to  ruin,  —  the  one  in  Philippe, 


80  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  other  in  the  lottery.  This  astuteness  is  seldom 
wanting  among  painters  ;  busy  for  clays  together  in  the 
solitude  of  their  studios,  engaged  in  work  which,  up  to 
a  certain  point,  leaves  the  mind  free,  they  are  in  some 
respects  like  women,  —  their  thoughts  turn  about  the 
little  events  of  life,  and  they  contrive  to  get  at  their 
hidden  meaning. 

Joseph  had  bought  one  of  those  magnificent  chests 
or  coffers  of  a  past  age,  then  ignored  by  fashion,  with 
which  he  decorated  a  corner  of  his  studio,  where  the  light 
danced  upon  the  bas-reliefs  and  gave  full  lustre  to  a 
masterpiece  of  the  sixteenth  century  artisans.  He  saw 
the  necessity  for  a  hiding-place,  and  in  this  coffer  he  had 
begun  to  accumulate  a  little  store  of  money.  With  an 
artist's  carelessness,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  putting  the 
sum  he  allowed  for  his  monthly  expenses  in  a  skull, 
which  stood  on  one  of  the  compartments  of  the  coffer. 
Since  his  brother  had  returned  to  live  at  home,  he  found 
a  constant  discrepancy  between  the  amount  he  spent 
and  the  sum  in  this  receptacle.  The  hundred  francs  a 
month  disappeared  with  incredible  celerity.  Finding 
nothing  one  day,  when  he  had  only  spent  forty  to  fifty 
francs,  he  remarked  for  the  first  time:  "My  money 
must  have  got  wings."  The  next  month  he  paid  more 
attention  to  his  accounts ;  but  add  as  he  might,  like 
Robert  Macaire,  sixteen  and  five  are  twenty-three, 
he  could  make  nothing  of  them.  When,  for  the  third 
time,  he  found  a  still  more  important  discrepancy,  he 
communicated  the  painful  fact  to  Madame  Descoings, 
who  loved  him,  he  knew,  with  that  maternal,  tender, 
confiding,  credulous,  enthusiastic  love  that  he  had  never 
had  from  his  own  mother,  good  as  she  was,  —  a  love  as 
necessary  to  the  early  life  of  an  artist  as  the  care  of  the 


"     TJie  Tivo  Brothers.  81 

hen  is  to  her  unfledged  chickens.  To  her  alone  could 
he  confide  his  horrible  suspicions.  He  was  as  sure  of 
his  friends  as  he  was  of  himself;  and  the  Descoings,  he 
knew,  would  take  nothing  to  put  in  her  lottery.  At  the 
idea  which  then  suggested  itself  the  poor  woman  wrung 
her  hands.  Philippe  alone  could  have  committed  this 
domestic  theft. 

"Why  didn't  he  ask  me,  if  he  wanted  it?"  cried  Jo- 
seph, taking  a  dab  of  color  on  his  palette  and  stirring  it 
into  the  other  colors  without  seeing  what  he  did.  "  Is 
it  likely  I  should  refuse  him?" 

"It  is  robbing  a  child !  "  cried  the  Descoings,  her 
face  expressing  the  deepest  disgust. 

**  No,"  replied  Joseph,  "  he  is  my  brother  ;  my  purse 
is  his  :  but  he  ought  to  have  asked  me." 

"Put  in  a  special  sum,  in  silver,  this  morning,  and 
don't  take  anything  out,"  said  Madame  Descoings.  "I 
shall  know  who  goes  into  the  studio ;  and  if  he  is  the 
only  one,  3*011  will  be  certain  it  is  he." 

The  next  day  Joseph  had  proof  of  his  brother's  forced 
loans  upon  him.  Philippe  came  to  the  studio  when  his 
brother  was  out  and  took  the  little  sum  he  wanted. 
The  artist  trembled  for  his  hidden  savings. 

"  I  '11  catch  him  at  it,  the  scamp  !  "  he  said,  laughing, 
to  Madame  Descoings. 

1 '  And  you  '11  do  right :  we  ought  to  break  him  of  it. 
I,  too,  I  have  missed  little  sums  out  of  my  purse.  Poor 
bo3r !  he  wants  tobacco  ;  he  's  accustomed  to  it." 

"Poor  boy!  poor  boy!"  cried  the  artist.  "I'm 
rather  of  Fulgence  and  Bixiou's  opinion  :  Philippe  is  a 
dead-weight  on  us.  He  runs  his  head  into  riots  and 
has  to  be  shipped  to  America,  and  that  costs  the  mother 
twelve  thousand  francs  ;  he  can't  find  anything  to  do  in 

(» 


82  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  forests  of  the  New  World,  and  so  he  comes  back 
again,  and  that  costs  twelve  thousand  more.  Under 
pretence  of  having  carried  two  words  of  Napoleon  to  a 
general,  he  thinks  himself  a  great  soldier  and  makes 
faces  at  the  Bourbons;  meantime,  what  does  he  do? 
amuse  himself,  travel  about,  see  foreign  countries !  As 
for  me,  I  'm  not  duped  by  his  misfortunes  ;  he  does  n't 
look  like  a  man  who  fails  to  get  the  best  of  things  ! 
Somebody  finds  him  a  good  place,  and  there  he  is,  lead- 
ing the  life  of  a  Sardanapalus  with  a  ballet-girl,  and 
guzzling  the  funds  of  his  journal ;  that  costs  the  mother 
another  twelve  thousand  francs !  I  don't  care  two 
straws  for  myself,  but  Philippe  will  bring  that  poor 
woman  to  beggary.  He  thinks  I  'm  of  no  account  be- 
cause I  was  never  in  the  dragoons  of  the  Guard ;  but 
perhaps  I  shall  be  the  one  to  support  that  poor  dear 
mother  in  her  old  age,  while  he,  if  he  goes  on  as  he 
does,  will  end  I  don't  know  how.  Bixiou  often  says  to 
me,  l  He  is  a  downright  rogue,  that  brother  of  yours.' 
Your  grandson  is  right.  Philippe  will  be  up  to  some 
mischief  that  will  compromise  the  honor  of  the  family, 
and  then  we  shall  have  to  scrape  up  another  ten  or 
twelve  thousand  francs !  He  gambles  every  night ; 
when  he  comes  home,  drunk  as  a  templar,  he  drops 
on  the  staircase  the  pricked  cards  on  which  he  marks 
the  turns  of  the  red  and  black.  Old  Desroches  is  try- 
ing to  get  him  baek  into  the  army,  and,  on  my  word  of 
honor,  I  believe  he  would  hate  to  serve  again.  Would 
you  ever  have  believed  that  a  boy  with  such  heaventy 
blue  eyes  and  the  look  of  Bayard  could  turn  out  such  a 
scoundrel  ?  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  83 


In  spite  of  the  coolness  and  discretion  with  which 
Philippe  played  his  trifling  game  eveiy  night,  it  hap- 
pened every  now  and  then  that  he  was  what  gamblers 
call  "cleaned  out."  Driven  by  the  irresistible  necessity 
of  having  his  evening  stake  of  ten  francs,  he  plundered 
the  household,  and  laid  hands  on  his  brother's  mone}- 
and  on  all  that  Madame  Descoings  or  Agathe  left  about. 
Already  the  poor  mother  had  had  a  dreadful  vision  in 
her  first  sleep :  Philippe  entered  the  room  and  took 
from  the  pockets  of  her  gown  all  the  money  he  could 
find.  Agathe  pretended  to  sleep,  but  she  passed  the 
rest  of  the  night  in  tears.  She  saw  the  truth  only  too 
clearly.  "  One  wrong  act  is  not  vice,"  Madame  Des- 
coings had  declared  ;  but  after  so  many  repetitions,  vice 
was  unmistakable.  Agathe  could  doubt  no  longer ;  her 
best-beloved  son  had  neither  delicacy  nor  honor. 

On  the  morrow  of  that  frightful  vision,  before  Philippe 
left  the  house  after  breakfast,  she  drew  him  into  her 
chamber  and  begged  him,  in  a  tone  of  entreat}*,  to  ask 
her  for  what  money  he  needed.  After  that,  the  appli- 
cations were  so  numerous  that  in  two  weeks  Agathe 
was  drained  of  all  her  savings.  She  was  literally  with- 
out a  penny,  and  began  to  think  of  finding  work.  The 
means  of  earning  money  had  been  discussed  in  the 
evenings  between  herself  and  Madame  Descoings,  and 
she  had  already  taken  patterns  of  worsted  work  to 
fill  in,  from  a  shop  called  the  "  Pere  de  Famille,"  —  an 


84  The  Two  Brothers. 

employment  which  pays  about  twent}'  sous  a  daj\  Not- 
withstanding Agathe's  silence  on  the  subject,  Madame 
Descoings  had  guessed  the  motive  of  this  desire  to  earn 
monej-  by  women's-work.  The  change  in  her  appear- 
ance was  eloquent :  her  fresh  face  had  withered,  the  skin 
clung  to  the  temples  and  the  cheek-bones,  and  the  fore- 
head showed  deep  lines  ;  her  eyes  lost  their  clearness  ; 
an  inward  fire  was  evidently  consuming  her ;  she  wept 
the  greater  part  of  the  night.  A  chief  cause  of  these 
outward  ravages  was  the  necessity  of  hiding  her  an- 
guish, her  sufferings,  her  apprehensions.  She  never 
went  to  sleep  until  Philippe  came  in  ;  she  listened  for 
his  step,  she  had  learned  the  inflections  of  his  voice,  the 
variations  of  his  walk,  the  very  language  of  his  cane  as 
it  touched  the  pavement.  Nothing  escaped  her.  She 
knew  the  degree  of  drunkenness  he  had  reached,  she 
trembled  as  she  heard  him  stumble  on  the  stairs  ;  one 
night  she  picked  up  some  pieces  of  gold  at  the  spot  where 
he  had  fallen.  When  he  had  drunk  and  won,  his  voice 
was  gruff  and  his  cane  dragged  ;  but  when  he  had  lost, 
his  step  had  something  sharp,  short,  and  angry  about 
it ;  he  hummed  in  a  clear  voice,  and  carried  his  cane  in 
the  air  as  if  presenting  arms.  At  breakfast,  if  he  had 
won,  his  behavior  was  ga}r  and  even  affectionate  ;  he  joked 
roughly,  but  still  he  joked,  with  Madame  Descoings, 
with  Joseph,  and  with  his  mother;  gloomy,  on  the  con- 
trary, when  he  had  lost,  his  brusque,  rough  speech,  his 
hard  glance,  and  his  depression,  frightened  them.  A 
life  of  debauch  and  the  abuse  of  liquors  debased,  day  by 
day,  a  countenance  that  was  once  so  handsome.  The 
veins  of  the  face  were  swollen  with  blood,  the  features 
became  coarse,  the  eves  lost  their  lashes  and  grew  hard 
and   dry.     No  longer  careful  of  his  person,  Philippe 


The  Two  Brothers.  85 

exhaled  the  miasmas  of  a  tavern  and  the  smell  of 
mudd}'  boots,  which,  to  an  observer,  stamped  him  with 
debauchery. 

4 'You  ought,"  said  Madame  Descoings  to  Philippe 
during  the  last  days  of  December,  "you  ought  to  get 
3'ourself  new-clothed  from  head  to  foot." 

44  And  who  is  to  pa}'  for  it?"  he  answered  sharply. 
4  4  My  poor  mother  has  n't  a  sou  ;  and  I  have  five  hun- 
dred francs  a  year.  It  would  take  my  whole  year's  pen- 
sion to  pay  for  the  clothes  ;  besides  I  have  mortgaged 
it  for  three  years  — " 

44  What  for?  "  asked  Joseph. 

"  A  debt  of  honor.  Giroudeau  borrowed  a  thousand 
francs  from  Florentine  to  lend  me.  I  am  not  gorgeous, 
that's  a  fact ;  but  when  one  thinks  that  Napoleon  is  at 
Saint  Helena,  and  has  sold  his  plate  for  the  means  of 
living,  his  faithful  soldiers  can  manage  to  walk  upon 
their  bare  feet,"  he  said,  showing  his  boots  without 
heels,  as  lie  marched  away. 

44  He  is  not  bad,"  said  Agathe,  44  he  has  good  feel- 
ings." 

"  You  can  love  the  Emperor  and  yet  dress  yourself 
properly,"  said  Joseph.  44  If  he  would  take  any  care 
of  himself  and  his  clothes,  he  would  n't  look  so  like  a 
vagabond." 

44  Joseph !  you  ought  to  have  some  indulgence  for 
your  brother,"  cried  Agathe.  4fc  You  do  the  things  yon 
like,  while  he  is  certainly  not  in  his  right  place." 

44  What  did  he  leave  it  for?"  demanded  Joseph. 
What  can  it  matter  to  him  whether  Louis  the  Eigh- 
teenth's bugs  or  Napoleon's  cuckoos  are  on  the  flag,  if 
it  is  the  flag  of  his  country?  France  is  France!  For 
my  part,  I  'd  paint  for  the  devil.     A  soldier  ought  to 


86  The  Two  Brothers. 

fight,  if  he  is  a  soldier,  for  the  love  of  his  art.  If  he 
had  sta}Ted  quietly  in  the  arnrv,  he  would  have  been  a 
general  by  this  time." 

"You  are  unjust  to  him,"  said  Agathe,  "30111*  father, 
who  adored  the  Emperor,  would  have  approved  of  his 
conduct.  However,  he  has  consented  to  re-enter  the 
army.  God  knows  the  grief  it  has  caused  your  brother 
to  do  a  thing  he  considers  treachery." 

Joseph  rose  to  return  to  his  studio,  but  his  mother 
took  his  hand  and  said  :  — 

44  Be  good  to  your  brother ;  he  is  so  unfortunate." 

When  the  artist  got  back  to  his  painting-room,  fol- 
lowed by  Madame  Descoings,  who  begged  him  to  hu- 
mor his  mother's  feelings,  and  pointed  out  to  him  how 
changed  she  was,  and  what  inward  suffering  the  change 
revealed,  they  found  Philippe  there,  to  their  great 
amazement. 

••Joseph,  my  bo3T,"  he  said,  in  an  off-hand  way,  "I 
want  some  mone}\  Confound  it !  I  owe  thirty*  francs 
for  cigars  at  my  tobacconist's,  and  I  dare  not  pass  the 
cursed  shop  till  I  've  paid  it.  I  've  promised  to  pay  it 
a  dozen  times." 

"  Well,  I  like  your  present  wa}*  best,"  said  Joseph ; 
44  take  what  you  want  out  of  the  skull." 

"  I  took  all  there  was  last  night,  after  dinner." 

"There  was  forty-five  franes." 

"  Yes,  that's  what  I  made  it,"  replied  Philippe.  M  I 
took  them  ;  is  there  any  objection?  " 

"No,  my  friend,  no,"  said  Joseph.  "If  you  were 
rich,  I  should  do  the  same  by  you  ;  only,  before  taking 
what  I  wanted,  I  should  ask  3011  if  it  were  convenient." 

44  It  is  very  humiliating  to  ask,"  remarked  Philippe  ; 
44 1  would  rather  see  30U  taking  as  I  do,  without  a 


The  Two  Brothers.  87 

word ;  it  shows  more  confidence.  In  the  army,  if  a 
comrade  dies,  and  has  a  good  pair  of  boots,  and  you 
have  a  bad  pair,  you  change,  that's  all." 

"Yes,  but  }Tou  don't  take  them  while  he  is  living." 

"  Oh,  what  meanness  !  "  said  Philippe,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.     "  Well,  so  you  have  n't  got  any  money  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Joseph,  who  was  determined  not  to  show 
his  hiding-place. 

"In  a  few  days  we  shall  be  rich,"  said  Madame 
Descoings. 

"  Yes,  you  ;  you  think  your  trej'  is  going  to  turn  up 
on  the  2oth  at  the  Paris  drawing.  You  must  have  put 
in  a  fine  stake  if  you  think  you  can  make  us  all  rich." 

"A  paid-up  trey  of  two  hundred  francs  will  give 
three  millions,  without  counting  the  couplets  and  the 
singles." 

"  At  fifteen  thousand  times  the  stake  —  yes,  you  are 
right ;  it  is  just  two  hundred  you  must  pay  up  !  "  cried 
Philippe. 

Madame  Descoings  bit  her  lips ;  she  knew  she  had 
spoken  imprudently.  In  fact,  Philippe  was  asking  him- 
self as  he  went  downstairs  :  — 

1 '  That  old  witch  !  where  does  she  keep  her  money  ? 
It  is  as  good  as  lost;  I  can  make  a  better  use  of  it. 
With  four  pools  at  fifty  francs  each,  I  could  win  two 
hundred  thousand  francs,  and  that's  much  surer  than 
the  turning  up  of  a  trey." 

He  tried  to  think  where  the  old  woman  was  likefy  to 
have  hid  the  money.  On  the  days  preceding  festivals, 
Agathe  went  to  church  and  stayed  there  a  long  time ; 
no  doubt  she  confessed  and  prepared  for  the  commu- 
nion. It  was  now  the  day  before  Christmas  ;  Madame 
Descoings  would  certainty  go  out  to  bu}7  some  dainties 


88  The  Two  Brothers. 

for  the  reveillon,  the  midnight  meal ;  and  she  might 
also  take  occasion  to  pay  up  her  stake.  The  lottery 
was  drawn  every  five  days  in  different  localities,  at 
Bordeaux,  Lyons,  Lille,  Strasburg,  and  Paris.  The  Paris 
lottery  was  drawn  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  each  month, 
and  the  lists  closed  on  the  twenty-fourth,  at  midnight- 
Philippe  studied  all  these  points  and  set  himself  to 
watch.  He  came  home  at  midday  ;  the  Descoings  had 
gone  out,  and  had  taken  the  key  of  the  appartement. 
But  that  was  no  difficulty.  Philippe  pretended  to  have 
forgotten  something,  and  asked  the  concierge  to  go  her- 
self and  get  a  locksmith,  who  lived  close  by,  and  who 
came  at  once  and  opened  the  door.  The  villain's  first 
thought  was  the  bed  ;  he  uncovered  it,  passed  his  hands 
over  the  mattress  before  he  examined  the  bedstead,  and 
at  the  lower  end  felt  the  pieces  wrapped  up  in  paper. 
He  at  once  ripped  the  ticking,  picked  out  twenty  na- 
poleons, and  then,  without  taking  time  to  sew  up  the 
mattress,  re-made  the  bed  neatly  enough,  so  that  Ma- 
dame Descoings  could  suspect  nothing. 

The  gambler  stole  off  with  a  light  foot,  resolving  to 
play  at  three  different  times,  three  hours  apart,  aud 
each  time  for  only  ten  minutes.  Thorough-going  play- 
ers, ever  since  1786,  the  time  at  which  public  gaming- 
houses were  established, — the  true  players  whom  the 
government  dreaded,  and  w7ho  ate  up,  to  use  a  gambling 
term,  the  money  of  the  bank,  —  never  played  in  any  other 
way.  But  before  attaining  this  measure  of  experience 
they  lost  fortunes.  The  whole  science  of  gambling- 
houses  and  their  gains  rests  upon  three  things :  the 
impassibility  of  the  bank  ;  the  even  results  called 
"drawn  games,"  when  half  the  money  goes  to  the 
bank ;   and  the  notorious  bad  faith  authorized  by  the 


The  Two  Brothers.  89 

government,  in  refusing  to  hold  or  pa}T  the  players 
stakes  except  optionally.  In  a  word,  the  gambling- 
house,  which  refuses  the  game  of  a  rich  and  cool  player, 
devours  the  fortune  of  the  foolish  and  obstinate  one, 
who  is  carried  awa}T  by  the  rapid  movement  of  the 
machinery  of  the  game.  The  croupiers  at  trente  et 
quarante  move  nearly  as  fast  as  the  ball. 

Philippe  had  ended  by  acquiring  the  sang-froid  of  a 
commanding  general,  which  enables  him  to  keep  his 
eye  clear  and  his  mind  prompt  in  the  midst  of  tumult. 
He  had  reached  that  statesmanship  of  gambling  which 
in  Paris,  let  us  sa}T  in  passing,  is  the  livelihood  of  thou- 
sands who  are  strong  enough  to  look  every  night  into 
an  abyss  without  getting  a  vertigo.  With  his  four 
hundred  francs,  Philippe  resolved  to  make  his  fortune 
that  day.  He  put  aside,  in  his  boots,  two  hundred 
francs,  and  kept  the  other  two  hundred  in  his  pocket. 
At  three  o'clock  he  went  to  the  gambling- house  (which 
is  now  turned  into  the  theatre  of  the  Palais-Royal), 
where  the  bank  accepted  the  largest  sums.  He  came 
out  half  an  hour  later  with  seven  thousand  francs  in  his 
pocket.  Then  he  went  to  see  Florentine,  paid  the  five 
hundred  francs  which  he  owed  to  her,  and  proposed  a 
supper  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale  after  the  theatre. 
Returning  to  his  game,  along  the  rue  de  Sentier,  he 
stopped  at  Giroudeau's  newspaper-office  to  notif\-  him 
of  the  gala.  By  six  o'clock  Philippe  had  won  twent}- 
five  thousand  francs,  and  stopped  playing  at  the  end  of 
ten  minutes  as  he  had  promised  himself  to  do.  That 
night,  by  ten  o'clock,  he  had  won  seventy-five  thou- 
sand francs.  After  the  supper,  which  was  magnificent, 
Philippe,  by  that  time  drunk  and  confident,  went  back 
to  his  play  at  midnight.     In  defiance  of  the  rule  he 


90  The  Two  Brothers. 

had  imposed  upon  himself,  he  played  for  an  hour  and 
doubled  his  fortune.  The  bankers,  from  whom,  by  his 
system  of  playing,  he  had  extracted  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  francs,  looked  at  him  with  curiosity. 

"Will  he  go  away  now,  or  will  he  stay?"  they  said 
to  each  other  03-  a  glance.     "  If  he  stays  he  is  lost." 

Philippe  thought  he  had  struck  a  vein  of  luck,  and 
stayed.  Towards  three  in  the  morning,  the  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  francs  had  gone  back  to  the  bank. 
The  colonel,  who  had  imbibed  a  considerable  quantity 
of  grog  while  playing,  left  the  place  in  a  drunken 
state,  which  the  cold  of  the  outer  air  only  increased. 
A  waiter  from  the  gambling-house  followed  him,  picked 
him  up,  and  took  him  to  one  of  those  horrible  houses  at 
the  door  of  which,  on  a  hanging  lamp,  are  the  words : 
"Lodgings  for  the  night."  The  waiter  paid  for  the 
ruined  gambler,  who  was  put  to  bed,  where  he  remained 
till  Christmas  night.  The  managers  of  gambling-houses 
have  some  consideration  for  their  customers,  especially 
for  high  players.  Philippe  woke  about  seven  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  his  mouth  parched,  his  face  swollen,  and  he 
himself  in  the  grip  of  a  nervous  fever.  The  strength  of 
his  constitution  enabled  him  to  get  home  on  foot,  where 
meanwhile  he  had,  without  willing  it,  brought  mourning, 
desolation,  povert}*,  and  death. 

The  evening  before,  when  dinner  was  read}',  Madame 
Descoings  and  Agathe  expected  Philippe.  They  waited 
dinner  till  seven  o'clock.  Agathe  always  went  to  bed 
at  ten  ;  but  as,  on  this  occasion,  she  wished  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  midnight  mass,  she  went  to  lie  down  as  soon 
as  dinner  was  over.  Madame  Descoings  and  Joseph 
remained  alone  by  the  fire  in  the  little  salon,  which 
served  for  all,  and  the  old  woman  asked  the  painter  to 


The  Two  Brothers.  91 

add  up  the  amount  of  her  great  stake,  her  monstrous 
stake,  on  the  famous  trey,  whieh  she  was  to  pa}T  that 
evening  at  the  Lotter}*  office.  She  wished  to  put  in  for 
the  doubles  and  singles  as  well,  so  as  to  seize  all  chances. 
After  feasting  on  the  poetry  of  her  hopes,  and  pouring 
the  two  horns  of  plenty  at  the  feet  of  her  adopted  son, 
and  relating  to  him  her  dreams  which  demonstrated  the 
certainty  of  success,  she  felt  no  other  uneasiness  than 
the  difficulty  of  bearing  such  joy,  and  waiting  from  mid- 
night until  ten  o'clock  of  the  morrow,  when  the  winning 
numbers  were  declared.  Joseph,  who  saw  nothing  of  the 
four  hundred  francs  necessary  to  pay  up  the  stakes,  asked 
about  them.  The  old  woman  smiled,  and  led  him  into 
the  former  salon,  which  was  now  her  bed-chamber. 

"  You  shall  see,"  she  said. 

Madame  Descoings  hastily  unmade  the  bed,  and 
searched  for  her  scissors  to  rip  the  mattress  ;  she  put  on 
her  spectacles,  looked  at  the  ticking,  saw  the  hole,  and 
let  fall  the  mattress.  Hearing  a  sigh  from  the  depths 
of  the  old  woman's  breast,  as  though  she  were  strangled 
with  a  rush  of  blood  to  the  heart,  Joseph  instinctively 
held  out  his  arms  to  catch  the  poor  creature,  and  placed 
her  fainting  in  a  chair,  calling  to  his  mother  to  come  to 
them.  Agathe  rose,  slipped  on  her  dressing-gown,  and 
ran  in.  By  the  light  of  a  candle,  she  applied  the  ordi- 
nary remedies,  —  eau-de-cologne  to  the  temples,  cold 
water  to  the  forehead,  a  burnt  feather  under  the  nose, 
—  and  presently  her  aunt  revived. 

"  They  were  there  this  morning  ;  he  has  taken  them, 
the  monster !  "  she  said. 

"  Taken  what?"  asked  Joseph. 

"  I  had  twenty  louis  in  my  mattress  ;  my  savings  for 
two  years  ;  no  one  but  Philippe  could  have  taken  them." 


92  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  But  when ?"  cried  the  poor  mother,  overwhelmed, 
"  he  has  not  been  in  since  breakfast." 

"  I  wish  I  might  bs  mistaken,"  said  the  old  woman. 
"But  this  morning  in  Joseph's  studio,  when  I  spoke 
before  Philippe  of  my  stakes,  I  had  a  presentiment.  I 
did  wrong  not  to  go  down  and  take  my  little  all  and 
pay  for  my  stakes  at  once.  I  meant  to,  and  I  don't 
know  what  prevented  me.  Oh,  yes  !  —  my  God  !  I 
went  out  to  huy  him  some  cigars." 

"  But,"  said  Joseph,  "  you  left  the  door  locked.  Be- 
sides, it  is  so  infamous,  I  can't  believe  it.  Philippe 
could  n't  have  watched  you,  cut  open  the  mattress,  done 
it  deliberatelj*,  —  no,  no  !  " 

"  I  felt  them  this  morning,  when  I  made  my  bed  after 
breakfast,"  repeated  Madame  Descoings. 

Agathe,  horrified,  went  down  stairs  and  asked  if 
Philippe  had  come  in  during  the  da}'.  The  concierge 
related  the  tale  of  his  return  and  the  locksmith.  The 
mother,  heart-stricken,  went  back  a  changed  woman. 
White  as  the  linen  of  her  chemise,  she  walked  as  we 
might  fancy  a  spectre  walks,  slowly,  noiselessly,  moved 
b}T  some  superhuman  power,  and  yet  mechanically. 
She  held  a  candle  in  her  hand,  whose  light  fell  full 
upon  her  face  and  showed  her  eyes,  fixed  with  horror. 
Unconsciously,  her  hands  by  a  desperate  movement 
had  dishevelled  the  hair  about  her  brow  ;  and  this  made 
her  so  beautiful  with  anguish  that  Joseph  stood  rooted 
in  awe  at  the  apparition  of  that  remorse,  the  vision  of 
that  statue  of  terror  and  despair. 

"  M3'  aunt,"  she  said,  "take  my  silver  forks  and 
spoons,  I  have  enough  to  make  up  the  sum  ;  I  took  your 
money  for  Philippe's  sake  ;  I  thought  I  could  put  it  back 
before  you  missed  it.     Oh  !     I  have  suffered  much." 


The  Two  Brothers.  93 

She  sat  down.  Her  dry,  fixed  eyes  wandered  a 
little 

4.'  It  was  he  who  did  it,"  whispered  the  old  woman  to 
Joseph. 

'*  No,  no,"  cried  Agathe  ;  "  take  my  silver  plate,  sell 
it ;  it  is  useless  to  me  ;  we  can  eat  with  yours." 

She  went  to  her  room,  took  the  box  which  contained 
the  plate,  felt  its  light  weight,  opened  it,  and  saw  a 
pawnbroker's  ticket.  The  poor  mother  uttered  a 
dreadful  c^.  Joseph  and  the  Descoings  ran  to  her, 
saw  the  empt\T  box,  and  her  noble  falsehood  was  of  no 
avail.  All  three  were  silent,  and  avoided  looking  at 
each  other ;  but  the  next  moment,  03-  an  almost  frantic 
gesture,  Agathe  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips  as  if  to  en- 
treat a  secrecy  no  one  desired  to  break.  They  returned 
to  the  salon,  and  sat  beside  the  fire. 

"  Ah  !  my  children,"  cried  Madame  Descoings,  "lam 
stabbed  to  the  heart :  my  trey  will  turn  up,  I  am  cer- 
tain of  it.  I  am  not  thinking  of  mj'self,  but  of  you 
two.  Philippe  is  a  monster,"  she  continued,  addressing 
her  niece  ;  "  he  does  not  love  you  after  all  that  you  have 
done  for  him.  If  you  do  not  protect  yourself  against 
him  he  will  bring  3tou  to  beggary.  Promise  me  to  sell 
out  your  Funds  and  buy  a  life-annuity.  Joseph  has  a 
good  profession  and  he  can  live.  If  you  will  do  this, 
dear  Agathe,  you  will  never  be  an  expense  to  Joseph. 
Monsieur  Desroches  has  just  started  his  son  as  a  notary  ; 
he  would  take  your  twelve  thousand  francs  and  pay  you 
an  annuity." 

Joseph  seized  his  mother's  candlestick,  rushed  up  to 
his  studio,  and  came  down  with  three  hundred  francs. 

"  Here,  Maman  Descoings  !  "  he  cried,  giving  her  his 
little  store,  "it  is  no  business  of  ours  what  }*ou  do  with 


94  The  Two  Brothers. 

your  money  ;  we  owe  }ou  what  you  have  lost,  and  here 
it  is,  almost  in  full." 

M  Take  your  poor  little  all  ?  —  the  fruit  of  those  priva- 
tions that  have  made  me  so  unhappy !  are  you  mad, 
Joseph?"  cried  the  old  woman,  visibly  torn  between  her 
dogged  faith  in  the  coming  trey,  and  the  sacrilege  of 
accepting  such  a  sacrifice. 

"Oh!  take  it  if  you  like,"  said  Agathe,  who  was 
moved  to  tears  by  this  action  of  her  true  son. 

Madame  Descoings  took  Joseph  by  the  head,  and 
kissed  him  on  the  forehead  :  — 

"  My  child,"  she  said,  "  don't  tempt  me.  I  might  only 
lose  it.     The  lottery,  you  see,  is  all  folly." 

No  more  heroic  words  were  ever  uttered  in  the  hidden 
dramas  of  domestic  life.  It  was,  indeed,  affection 
triumphant  over  inveterate  vice.  At  this  instant,  the 
clocks  struck  midnight. 

"  It  is  too  late  now,"  said  Madame  Descoings. 

"Oh!"  cried  Joseph,  "here  are  jour  cabalistic 
numbers." 

The  artist  sprang  at  the  paper,  and  rushed  headlong 
down  the  staircase  to  pay  the  stakes.  When  he  was  no 
longer  present,  Agathe  and  Madame  Descoings  burst 
into  tears. 

"  He  has  gone,  the  dear  love,"  cried  the  old  gambler  ; 
"  but  it  shall  all  be  his  ;  he  pays  his  own  money." 

Unhappily,  Joseph  did  not  know  the  way  to  an}-  of  the 
lottery-offices,  which  in  those  daj*s  were  as  well  known 
to  most  people  as  the  cigarshops  to  a  smoker  in  ours. 
The  painter  ran  along,  reading  the  street  names  upon 
the  lamps.  When  he  asked  the  passers-by  to  show 
him  a  lottery  -  office,  he  was  told  they  were  all  closed, 
except  the  one  under  the  portico  of  the  Palais-Roy 


ed, 

yal 


The  Two  Brothers.  <>5 

which  was  sometimes  kept  open  a  little  later.     He  flew 
to  the  Palais-Royal :  the  office  was  shut. 

"  Two  minutes  earlier,  and  you  might  have  paid  your 
stake,"  said  one  of  the  vendors  of  tickets,  whose  beat 
was  under  the  portico,  where  he  vociferated  this  singu- 
lar cry:  "Twelve  hundred  francs  for  forty  sous," 
and  offered  tickets  all  paid  up. 

By  the  glimmer  of  the  street-lamp  and  the  lights  of 
the  cafe  de  la  Rotonde,  Joseph  examined  these  tickets 
to  see  if,  by  chance,  any  of  them  bore  the  Descoings's 
numbers.  He  found  none,  and  returned  home  grieved 
at  having  done  his  best  in  vain  for  the  old  woman,  to 
whom  he  related  his  ill-luck.  Agathe  and  her  aunt 
went  together  to  the  midnight  mass  at  Saint-Germain- 
des-Pres.  Joseph  went  to  bed.  The  collation  did  not 
take  place.  Madame  Descoings  had  lost  her  head  ; 
and  in  Agathe's  heart  was  eternal  mourning. 

The  two  rose  late  on  Christmas  morning.  Ten 
o'clock  had  struck  before  Madame  Descoings  began  to 
bestir  herself  about  the  breakfast,  which  was  only  ready 
at  half-past  eleven.  At  that  hour,  the  oblong  frames 
containing  the  winning  numbers  are  hung  over  the  doors 
of  the  lottery- offices.  If  Madame  Descoings  had  paid 
her  stake  and  held  her  ticket,  she  would  have  gone  Iry 
half-past  nine  o'clock  to  learn  her  fate  at  a  building 
close  to  the  ministry  of  Finance,  in  the  rue  Neuve-des- 
Petits  Champs,  a  situation  now  occupied  by  the  Theatre 
Ventadour  in  the  place  of  the  same  name.  On  the 
days  when  the  drawings  took  place,  an  observer  might 
watch  with  curiositj'  the  crowd  of  old  women,  cooks, 
and  old  men  assembled  about  the  door  of  this  build- 
ing ;  a  sight  as  remarkable  as  the  cue  of  people  about 
the  Treasury  on  the  days  when  the  dividends  are  paid. 


90  The  Two  Brothers. 

41  Well,  here  you  are,  rolling  in  wealth !"  said  old 
Desroches,  coming  into  the  room  just  as  the  Descoings 
was  swallowing  her  last  drop  of  coffee. 

44  What  do  you  mean?  "  cried  poor  Agathe. 

44  Her  trey  has  turned  up,"  he  said,  producing  the 
list  of  numbers  written  on  a  bit  of  paper,  such  as  the 
officials  of  the  lottery  put  by  hundreds  in  little  wooden 
bowls  on  their  counters. 

Joseph  read  the  list.  Agathe  read  the  list.  The 
Descoings  read  nothing ;  she  was  struck  down  as  by  a 
thunderbolt.  At  the  change  in  her  face,  at  the  cry  she 
gave,  old  Desroches  and  Joseph  carried  her  to  her  bed. 
Agathe  went  for  a  doctor.  The  poor  woman  was 
seized  with  apoplex}T,  and  she  only  recovered  con- 
sciousness at  four  in  the  afternoon  ;  old  Haudry,  her 
doctor,  then  said  that,  in  spite  of  this  improvement,  she 
ought  to  settle  her  worldly  affairs  and  think  of  her 
salvation.     She  herself  only  uttered  two  words  :  — 

"  Three  millions  !  " 

Old  Desroches,  informed  by  Joseph,  with  due  reser- 
vations, of  the  state  of  things,  related  many  instances 
where  lottery-players  had  seen  a  fortune  escape  them 
on  the  very  day  when,  by  some  fatality,  they  had 
forgotten  to  pay  their  stakes  ;  but  he  thoroughly  under- 
stood that  such  a  blow  might  be  fatal  when  it  came 
after  twenty  3'ears'  perseverance.  About  five  o'clock, 
as  a  deep  silence  reigned  in  the  little  appartement,  and 
the  sick  woman,  watched  by  Joseph  and  his  mother,  the 
one  sitting  at  the  foot,  the  other  at  the  head  of  her  bed, 
was  expecting  her  grandson  Bixiou,  whom  Desroches  had 
gone  to  fetch,  the  sound  of  Philippe's  step  and  cane 
resounded  on  the  staircase. 

44  There  he  is!    there  he  is!"  cried  the  Descoings, 


The  Two  Brothers.  97 

sitting  up  in  bed,  and  suddenly  able  to  use  her  para- 
lyzed tongue. 

Agathe  and  Joseph  were  deeply  impressed  by  this 
powerful  effect  of  the  horror  which  violently  agitated 
the  old  woman.  Their  painful  suspense  was  soon  ended 
by  the  sight  of  Philippe's  convulsed  and  purple  face, 
his  staggering  walk,  and  the  horrible  state  of  his  eyes, 
which  were  deeply  sunken,  dull,  and  yet  haggard ;  he 
had  a  strong  chill  upon  him,  and  his  teeth  chattered. 

"Starvation  in  Prussia!"  he  cried,  looking  about 
him.  "  Nothing  to  eat  or  drink? —  and  my  throat  on 
fire!  Well,  what's  the  matter?  The  devil  is  always 
meddling  in  our  affairs.  There  's  my  old  Descoings  in 
bed,  looking  at  me  with  her  eyes  as  big  as  saucers." 

"  Be  silent,  monsieur!  "  said  Agathe,  rising.  4t  At 
least,  respect  the  sorrows  you  have  caused." 

"Monsieur,  indeed!"  he  cried,  looking  at  his 
mother.  "  My  dear  little  mother,  that  won't  do. 
Have   you    ceased   to   love   }*our   son?" 

"  Are  you  worthy  of  love?  Have  you  forgotten  what 
3rou  did  yesterday  ?  Go  and  find  yourself  another  home  ; 
3'ou  cannot  live  with  us  an\r  longer,  —  that  is,  after 
to-morrow,"  she  added;  "  for  in  the  state  you  are  in 
now  it  is  difficult  —  " 

14  To  turn  me  out,  —  is  that  it?"  he  interrupted. 
"Ha!  are  you  going  to  play  the  melodrama  of  w  The 
Banished  Son '  ?  Well  done !  is  that  how  you  take 
things?  You  are  all  a  pretty  set !  What  harm  have  I 
done?  I've  cleaned  out  the  old  woman's  mattress. 
What  the  devil  is  the  good  of  money  kept  in  wool? 
Do  you  call  that  a  crime  ?  Did  n't  she  take  twenty  thou- 
sand francs  from  3  ou  ?  We  are  her  creditors,  and  I  've 
paid  myself  as  much  as  I  could  get,  —  that 's  all." 

7 


98  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  My  God !  my  God!"  cried  the  dying  woman, 
clasping  her  hands  and  praying. 

"Be  silent!"  exclaimed  Joseph,  springing  at  his 
brother  and  putting  his  hand  before  his  mouth. 

"To  the  right  about,  march!  brat  of  a  painter!" 
retorted  Philippe,  laying  his  strong  hand  on  Joseph's 
head,  and  twirling  him  round,  as  he  flung  him  on  a 
sofa.  *'  Don't  dare  to  touch  the  moustache  of  a 
commander  of  a  squadron  of  the  dragoons  of  the 
Guard !  " 

"  She  has  paid  me  back  all  that  she  owed  me," 
cried  Agatlie,  rising  and  turning  an  angty  face  to  her 
son  ;  "  and  besides,  that  is  my  affair.  You  have  killed 
her.  Go  away,  my  son,"  she  added,  with  a  gesture  that 
took  all  her  remaining  strength,  "  and  never  let  me  see 
you  again.     You  are  a  monster." 

"I  kill  her?" 

"  Her  trey  has  turned  up,"  cried  Joseph,  "  and  you 
stole  the  mone}'  for  her  stake." 

"  Well,  if  she  is  dying  of  a  lost  trey,  it  is  n't  I  who 
have  killed  her,"  said  the  drunkard. 

"  Go,  go  !  "  said  Agathe.  "  You  fill  me  with  horror  ; 
you  have  eveiy  vice.     M3*  God  !  is  this  my  son  ?  " 

A  hollow  rattle  sounded  in  Madame  Descoings's 
throat,   increasing   Agathe's   anger. 

"I  love  you  still,  nry  mother,  —  you  who  are  the 
cause  of  all  my  misfortunes,"  said  Philippe.  "  You 
turn  me  out  of  doors  on  Christmas-day.  What  did 
you  do  to  grandpapa  Rouget,  to  your  father,  that  he 
should  drive  you  away  and  disinherit  you?  If  you  had 
not  displeased  him,  we  should  all  be  rich  now,  and  I 
should  not  be  reduced  to  misery.  What  did  you  do  to 
your  father,  —  you  who  are  a  good  woman  ?     You  see 


The  Two  Brothers.  99 

by  your  own  self,  I  may  be  a  good  fellow  and  yet  be 
turned  out  of  house  and  home, — I,  the  glory  of  the 
family  —  " 

"  The  disgrace  of  it !  "  cried  the  Descoings. 

"  You  shall  leave  this  room,  or  you  shall  kill  me !  " 
cried  Joseph,  springing  on  his  brother  with  the  fury  of 
a  lion. 

"  My  God !  my  God !  "  cried  Agathe,  trying  to 
separate  the  brothers. 

At  this  moment  Bixiou  and  Haudry  the  doctor  en- 
tered. Joseph  had  just  knocked  his  brother  over  and 
stretched  him  on  the  ground. 

"  He  is  a  regular  wild  beast,"  he  cried.  "  Don't 
speak  another  word,  or  I'll  — " 

"I'll  pay  you  for  this  !  "  roared  Philippe. 

"  A  family  explanation,"  remarked  Bixiou. 

"  Lift  him  up,"  said  the  doctor,  looking  at  him. 
"  He  is  as  ill  as  Madame  Descoings  ;  undress  him  and 
put  him  to  bed  ;   get  *>ff  his  boots." 

"That's  easy  to  say,"  cried  Bixiou,  "but  they 
must  be  cut  off;    his  legs  are  swollen." 

Agathe  took  a  pair  of  scissors.  When  she  had  cut 
down  the  boots,  which  in  those  dajTs  were  worn  outside 
the  clinging  trousers,  ten  pieces  of  gold  rolled  on  the 
floor. 

"There  it  is, — her  mone}',"  murmured  Philippe. 
"  Cursed  fool  that  I  was,  I  forgot  it.  I  too  have 
missed  a  fortune." 

He  was  seized  with  a  horrible  delirium  of  fever,  and 
began  to  rave.  Joseph,  assisted  by  old  Desroches, 
who  had  come  back,  and  b}T  Bixiou,  carried  him  to  his 
room.  Doctor  Haudry  was  obliged  to  write  a  line  to 
the  Hopital  de  la  Charite  and  borrow  a  strait- waistcoat ; 


100  The  Two  Brothers. 

for  the  delirium  ran  so  high  as  to  make  him  fear  that 
Philippe  might  kill  himself,  —  he  was  raving.  At  nine 
o'clock  calm  was  restored.  The  Abbe  Loraux  and 
Desroches  endeavored  to  comfort  Agathe,  who  never 
ceased  to  weep  at  her  aunt's  bedside.  She  listened  to 
them  in  silence,  and  obstinately  shook  her  head ; 
Joseph  and  the  Descoings  alone  knew  the  extent  and 
depth  of  her  inward  wound. 

"  He  will  learn  to  do  better,  mother,"  said  Joseph 
when  Desroches  and  Bixiou  had  left. 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  the  widow,  "  Philippe  is  right,  —  my 
father  cursed  me  :  I  have  no  right  to  —  Here,  here  is 
your  money,"  she  said  to  Madame  Descoings,  adding 
Joseph's  three  hundred  francs  to  the  two  hundred 
found  on  Philippe.  "  Go  and  see  if  your  brother  does 
not  need  something,"  she  said  to  Joseph. 

"  Will 3rou  keep  a  promise  made  to  a  dying  woman?" 
asked  Madame  Descoings,  who  felt  that  her  mind  was 
failing  her.  • 

"  Yes,  aunt." 

"  Then  swear  to  me  to  give  your  property  to  young 
Desroches  for  a  life  annuity.  M.y  income  ceases  at 
my  death;  and  from  what  you  have  just  said,  I  know 
you  will  let  that  wretch  wring  the  last  farthing  out  of 
you." 

"  I  swear  it,  aunt." 

The  old  woman  died  on  the  31st  of  December,  five 
days  after  the  terrible  blow  which  old  Desroches  had 
so  innocently  given  her.  The  five  hundred  francs  — 
the  only  money  in  the  household  —  were  barely  enough 
to  pay  for  her  funeral.  She  left  a  small  amount  of 
silver  and  some  furniture,  the  value  of  which  Madame 
Bridau  paid  over  to  her  grandson  Bixiou.     Reduced  to 


The  Two  Brothers.  101 

eight  hundred  francs'  annuity  paid  to  her  by  }'oung 
Desroches,  who  had  bought  a  business  without  clients, 
and  himself  took  the  capital  of  twelve  thousand  francs, 
Agathe  gave  up  her  appartement  on  the  third  floor,  and 
sold  all  her  superfluous  furniture.  When,  at  the  end  of 
a  month,  Philippe  seemed  to  be  convalescent,  his  mother 
coldly  explained  to  him  that  the  costs  of  his  illness  had 
taken  all  her  ready  money,  that  she  should  be  obliged 
in  future  to  work  for  her  living,  and  she  urged  him, 
with  the  utmost  kindness,  to  re-enter  the  arm}7  and 
support  himself. 

"  You  might  have  spared  me  that  sermon,"  said 
Philippe,  looking  at  his  mother  with  an  eye  that  was 
cold  from  utter  indifference.  "I  have  seen  all  along 
that  neither  you  nor  my  brother  love  me.  I  am  alone 
in  the  world  ;  I  like  it  best !  " 

"  Make  yourself  worthy  of  our  affection,"  answered 
the  poor  mother,  struck  to  the  very  heart,  "  and  we 
will  give  it  back  to  you  — " 

"  Nonsense  !  "  he  cried,  interrupting  her. 

He  took  his  old  hat,  rubbed  white  at  the  edges,  stuck 
it  over  one  ear,  and  went  downstairs  whistling. 

"  Philippe  !  where  are  you  going  without  any  money  ?" 
cried  his  mother,  who  could  not  repress  her  tears. 
"Here,  take  this  —  " 

She  held  out  to  him  a  hundred  francs  in  gold,  wrapped 
up  in  paper.  Philippe  came  up  the  stairs  he  had  just 
descended,  and  took  the  money. 

"  Well ;  won't  you  kiss  me?"  she  said,  bursting  into 
tears. 

He  pressed  his  mother  in  his  arms,  but  without  the 
warmth  of  feeling  which  was  all  that  could  give,  value 
to  the  embrace. 


102  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Where  shall  you  go?  "  asked  Agathe. 

4 'To  Florentine,  Giroudeau's  mistress.  Ah!  they 
are  real  friends !  "  he  answered  brutally. 

He  went  away.  Agathe  turned  back  with  trembling 
limbs,  and  failing  eyes,  and  aching  heart.  She  fell 
upon  her  knees,  prayed  God  to  take  her  unnatural 
child  into  His  own  keeping,  and  abdicated  her  woful 
motherhood. 


The  Two  Brothers.  103 


VI. 


By  February,  1822,  Madame  Bridau  had  settled  into 
the  attic  room  recently  occupied  b}r  Philippe,  which 
was  over  the  kitchen  of  her  former  appartement.  The 
painter's  studio  and  bedroom  was  opposite,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  staircase.  When  Joseph  saw  his  mother 
thus  reduced,  he  was  determined  to  make  her  as  com- 
fortable as  possible.  After  his  brother's  departure  he 
assisted  in  the  re-arrangement  of  the  garret  room,  to 
which  he  gave  an  artist's  touch.  He  added  a  rug ;  the 
bed,  simple  in  character  but  exquisite  in  taste,  had 
something  monastic  about  it;  the  walls,  hung  with  a 
cheap  glazed  cotton  selected  with  taste,  of  a  color 
which  harmonized  with  the  furniture  which  was  newly 
covered,  gave  the  room  an  air  of  elegance  and  nicety. 
In  the  hallway  he  added  a  double  door,  with  a,  portiere 
to  the  inner  one.  The  window  was  shaded  by  a  blind 
which  gave  soft  tones  to  the  light.  If  the  poor  mother's 
life  was  reduced  to  the  plainest  circumstances  that  the 
life  of  an}r  woman  could  have  in  Paris,  Agathe  was  at 
least  better  off  than  all  others  in  a  like  case,  thanks  to 
her  son. 

To  save  his  mother  from  the  cruel  cares  of  such  re- 
duced housekeeping,  Joseph  took  her  every  day  to  dine 
at  a  table-d'hote  in  the  rue  de  Beaune,  frequented  by 
well-bred  women,  deputies,  and  titled  people,  where 
each  person's  dinner  cost  ninet}'  francs  a  month.  Hav- 
ing nothing  but  the  breakfast  to  provide,  Agathe  took 


104  The  Two  Brothers. 

up  for  her  son  the  old  habits  she  had  formerly  had  with 
the  father.  But  in  spite  of  Joseph's  pious  lies,  she 
discovered  the  fact  that  her  dinner  was  costing  him 
nearly  a  hundred  francs  a  month.  Alarmed  at  such 
enormous  expense,  and  not  imagining  that  her  son 
could  earn  much  money  b}r  painting  naked  women,  she 
obtained,  thanks  to  her  confessor,  the  Abbe  Loraux,  a 
place  worth  seven  hundred  francs  a  year  in  a  lottery- 
office  belonging  to  the  Comtesse  de  Bauvan,  the  widow 
of  a  Chouan  leader.  The  lottery-offices  of  the  govern- 
ment, the  lot,  as  one  might  sa\T,  of  privileged  widows, 
ordinarily  sufficed  for  the  support  of  the  family  of  each 
person  who  managed  them.  But  after  the  Restora- 
tion the  difficulty  of  rewarding,  within  the  limits  of 
constitutional  government,  all  the  services  rendered  to 
the  cause,  led  to  the  custom  of  giving  to  reduced 
women  of  title  not  only  one  but  two  lotterj'-offices, 
worth,  usually,  from  six  to  ten  thousand  francs  a  }ear. 
In  such  cases,  the  widow  of  a  general  or  nobleman  thus 
"  protected"  did  not  keep  the  lotterj'-office  herself; 
she  emplo3*ed  a  paid  manager.  When  these  managers 
were  young  men  the3r  were  obliged  to  emploj'  an  as- 
sistant; for,  according  to  law,  the  offices  had  to  be 
kept  open  till  midnight ;  moreover,  the  reports  required 
by  the  minister  of  finance  involved  considerable  writ- 
ing. The  Comtesse  de  Bauvan,  to  whom  the  Abbe 
Loraux  explained  the  circumstances  of  the  widow 
Bridau,  promised,  in  case  her  manager  should  leave,  to 
give  the  place  to  Agathe  ;  meantime  she  stipulated  that 
the  widow  should  be  taken  as  assistant,  and  receive  a 
sala^  of  six  hundred  francs.  Poor  Agathe,  who  was 
obliged  to  be  at  the  office  hy  ten  in  the  morning,  had 
scarcely  time  to  get  her  dinner.     She  returned  to  her 


The  Two  Brothers.  105 

work  at  seven  in  the  evening,  remaining  there  till  mid- 
night. Joseph  never,  for  two  years,  failed  to  fetch  his 
mother  at  night,  and  bring  her  back  to  the  rue  Maza- 
rin ;  and  often  he  went  to  take  her  to  dinner ;  his 
friends  frequently  saw  him  leave  the  opera  or  some 
brilliant  salon  to  be  punctually  at  midnight  at  the  office 
in  the  rue  Vivienne. 

Agathe  soon  acquired  the  monotonous  regularity  of 
life  which  becomes  a  stay  and  a  support  to  those  who 
have  endured  the  shock  of  violent  sorrows.  In  the 
morning,  after  doing  up  her  room,  in  which  there  were 
no  longer  cats  and  little  birds,  she  prepared  the  break- 
fast at  her  own  fire  and  carried  it  into  the  studio,  where 
she  ate  it  with  her  son.  She  then  arranged  Joseph's 
bedroom,  put  out  the  fire  in  her  own  chamber,  and 
brought  her  sewing  to  the  studio,  where  she  sat  by  the 
little  iron  stove,  leaving  the  room  if  a  comrade  or  a 
model  entered  it.  Though  she  understood  nothing 
whatever  of  art,  the  silence  of  the  studio  suited  her. 
In  the  matter  of  art  she  made  not  the  slightest  prog- 
ress ;  she  attempted  no  hypocrisy ;  she  was  utterly 
amazed  at  the  importance  the\r  all  attached  to  color, 
composition,  drawing.  When  the  Cenacle  friends  or 
some  brother-painter,  like  Schinner,  Pierre  Grassou, 
Leon  de  Lora,  —  a  very  youthful  rapin  who  was  called 
at  that  time  Mistigris,  —  discussed  a  picture,  she  would 
come  back  afterwards,  examine  it  attentively,  and  dis- 
cover nothing  to  justify  their  fine  words  and  their  hot 
disputes.  She  made  her  son's  shirts,  she  mended  his 
stockings,  she  even  cleaned  his  palette,  supplied  him 
with  rags  to  wipe  his  brushes,  and  kept  things  in  order  in 
the  studio.  Seeing  how  much  thought  his  mother  gave 
to  these  little  details,  Joseph  heaped  attentions  upon  her 


106  The  Two  Brothers. 

in  return.  If  mother  and  son  had  no  sympathies  in  the 
matter  of  art,  they  were  at  least  bound  together  by  signs 
of  tenderness.  The  mother  had  a  purpose.  One  morn- 
ing as  she  was  petting  Joseph  while  he  was  sketching  a 
large  picture  (finished  in  after  }^ears  and  never  under- 
stood), she  said,  as  it  were,  casually  and  aloud,  — 

44  My  God  !  what  is  he  doing?  " 

"Doing?  who?" 

44  Philippe." 

"Oh,  ah!  he's  sowing  his  wild  oats;  that  fellow 
will  make  something  of  himself  b}T  and  by." 

44  But  he  has  gone  through  the  lesson  of  poverty ; 
perhaps  it  was  poverty  which  changed  him  to  what  he 
is.     If  he  were  prosperous  he  would  be  good  —  " 

44  You  think,  my  dear  mother,  that  he  suffered  dur- 
ing that  journey  of  his.  You  are  mistaken  ;  he  kept 
carnival  in  New  York  just  as  he  does  here  —  " 

44  But  if  he  is  suffering  at  this  moment,  near  to  us, 
would  it  not  be  horrible  ?  " 

44  Yes,"  replied  Joseph.  44  For  my  part.  I  will 
gladly  give  him  some  money ;  but  I  don't  want  to  see 
him  ;  he  killed  our  poor  Descoings." 

44  So,"  resumed  Agathe,  44you  would  not  be  willing 
to  paint  his  portrait  ?  " 

44  For  you,  dear  mother,  I'd  suffer  martyrdom.  I 
can  make  myself  remember  nothing  except  that  he  i3 
my  brother." 

44  His  portrait  as  captain  of  dragoons  on  horseback  ?  M 

44  Yes,  I've  a  copy  of  a  fine  horse  by  Gros  and  ] 
have  n't  any  use  for  it." 

44  Well,  then,  go  and  see  that  friend  of  his  and  find 
out  what  has  become  of  him." 

44 1 '11  go!" 


The  Two  Brothers.  107 

Agathe  rose  ;  her  scissors  and  work  fell  at  her  feet ; 
she  went  and  kissed  Joseph's  head,  and  dropped  two 
tears  on  his  hair. 

"  He  is  your  passion,  that  fellow,"  said  the  painter. 
"  We  all  have  our  hopeless  passions." 

That  afternoon,  about  four  o'clock,  Joseph  went  to 
the  rue  du  Sentier  and  found  his  brother,  who  had  taken 
Giroudeau's  place.  The  old  dragoon  had  been  pro- 
moted to  be  cashier  of  a  weekty  journal  established  by 
his  nephew.  .Although  Finot  was  still  proprietor  of 
the  other  newspaper,  which  he  had  divided  into  shares, 
holding  all  the  shares  himself,  the  proprietor  and  editor 
de  visu  was  one  of  his  friends,  named  Lousteau,  the 
son  of  that  veiy  sub-delegate  of  Issoudun  on  whom  the 
Bridaus'  grandfather,  Doctor  Rouget,  had  vowed  ven- 
geance ;  consequently  he  was  the  nephew  of  Madame 
Hochon.  To  make  himself  agreeable  to  his  uncle, 
Finot  gave  Philippe  the  place  Giroudeau  was  quitting ; 
cutting  off,  however,  half  the  salary.  Moreover,  daily, 
at  five  o'clock,  Giroudeau  audited  the  accounts  and  car- 
ried awaj7  the  receipts.  Coloquinte,  the  old  veteran,  who 
was  the  office  boy  and  did  errands,  also  kept  an  eye  on 
the  slippery  Philippe ;  who  was,  however,  behaving 
properly.  A  salary  of  six  hundred  francs,  and  the  five 
hundred  of  his  cross  sufficed  him  to  live,  all  the  more 
because,  living  in  a  warm  office  all  da}'  and  at  the  theatre 
on  a  free  pass  every  evening,  he  had  only  to  provide 
himself  with  food  and  a  place  to  sleep  in.  Coloquinte 
was  departing  with  the  stamped  papers  on  his  head, 
and  Philippe  was  brushing  his  false  sleeves  of  green 
linen,  when  Joseph  entered. 

"  Bless  me,  here  's  the  cub  !  "  cried  Philippe.  "  Well, 
we  '11  go  and  dine  together.    You  shall  go  to  the  opera ; 


108  The  Two  Brothers. 

Florine  and  Florentine  have  got  a  box.  I  'm  going 
with  Giroudeau  ;  you  shall  be  of  the  party,  and  I  '11 
introduce  you  to  Nathan." 

He  took  his  leaded  cane,  and  moistened  a  cigar. 

44  I  can't  accept  jour  invitation;  I  am  to  take  our 
mother  to  dine  at  a  table  d'  hote." 

44  Ah  !  how  is  she,  the  poor,  dear  woman?  " 

M  She  is  pretty  well,"  answered  the  painter,  44  I  have 
just  repainted  our  father's  portrait,  and  aunt  Des- 
coings's.  I  have  also  painted  my  own,  and  I  should 
like  to  give  our  mother  yours,  in  the  uniform  of  the 
dragoons  of  the  Imperial  Guard." 

44  Very  good." 

44  You  will  have  to  come  and  sit." 

44  I'm  obliged  to  be  in  this  hen-coop  from  nine  o'clock 
till  five." 

44  Two  Sunda}-s  will  be  enough." 

44  So  be  it,  little  man,"  said  Napoleon's  staff  officer, 
lighting  his  cigar  at  the  porter's  lamp. 

When  Joseph  related  Philippe's  position  to  his 
mother,  on  their  way  to  dinner  in  the  rue  de  Beaune, 
he  felt  her  arm  tremble  in  his,  and  jo}T  lighted  up  her 
worn  face  ;  the  poor  soul  breathed  like  one  relieved  of  a 
heavy  weight.  The  next  da}*,  inspired  by  J03*  and  grati- 
tude, she  paid  Joseph  a  number  of  little  attentions ; 
she  decorated  his  studio  with  flowers,  and  bought  him 
two  stands  of  plants.  On  the  first  Sunda}T  when  Phil- 
ippe was  to  sit,  Agathe  arranged  a  charming  breakfast 
in  the  studio.  She  laid  it  all  out  on  the  table ;  not 
forgetting  a  flask  of  brandy,  which,  however,  was 
only  half  full.  She  herself  stayed  behind  a  screen,  in 
which  she  made  a  little  hole.  The  ex-dragoon  sent  his 
uniform  the  night  before,  and  she  had  not  refrained 


I 


The  Two  Brothers.  109 

from  kissing  it.  When  Philippe  was  placed,  in  ful> 
dress,  on  one  of  those  straw  horses,  all  saddled,  which 
Joseph  had  hired  for  the  occasion,  Agathe,  fearing  to 
betray  her  presence,  mingled  the  soft  sound  of  her  tears 
with  the  conversation  of  the  two  brothers.  Philippe 
posed  for  two  hours  before  and  two  hours  after  break- 
fast. At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  he  put  on  his 
ordinary  clothes  and,  as  he  lighted  a  cigar,  he  proposed 
to  his  brother  to  go  and  dine  together  in  the  Palais- 
Royal,  jingling  gold  in  his  pocket  as  he  spoke. 

"No,"  said  Joseph,  "it  frightens  me  to  see  gold 
about  you." 

"  Ah  !  3'ou  '11  always  have  a  bad  opinion  of  me  in  this 
house,"  cried  the  colonel  in  a  thundering  voice.  "  Can't 
I  save  my  money,  too?" 

"  Yes,  }^es  !  "  cried  Agathe,  coming  out  of  her  hiding- 
place,  and  kissing  her  son.  U  Let  us  go  and  dine  with 
him,  Joseph ! " 

Joseph  dared  not  scold  his  mother.  He  went  and 
dressed  himself;  and  Philippe  took  them  to  the  Rocher 
de  Cancale,  where  he  gave  them  a  splendid  dinner,  the 
bill  for  which  amounted  to  a  hundred  francs. 

"  The  devil !  "  muttered  Joseph  uneasily  ;  "  with  an 
income  of  eleven  hundred  francs  you  manage,  like 
Ponchard  in  the  4  Dame  Blanche,'  to  save  enough  to 
buy  estates." 

"  Bah,  I'mona  run  of  luck,"  answered  the  dragoon, 
who  had  drunk  enormously. 

Hearing  this  speech  just  as  they  were  on  the  steps  of 
the  cafe,  and  before  they  got  into  the  carriage  to  go  to 
the  theatre,  —  for  Philippe  was  to  take  his  mother  to  the 
Cirque-Olympique  (the  only  theatre  her  confessor  al- 
lowed her  to  visit),  — Joseph  pinchedJiis  mother's  arm. 


110  The  Two  Brothers. 

'She  at  once  pretended  to  feel  unwell,  and  refused  to  go 
to  the  theatre  ;  Philippe  accordingly  took  them  back  to 
the  rue  Mazarin,  where,  as  soon  as  she  was  alone  with 
Joseph  in  her  garret,  Agathe  fell  into  a  gloomy  silence. 

The  following  Sunday  Philippe  came  again.  This 
time  his  mother  was  visibly  present  at  the  sitting.  She 
served  the  breakfast,  and  put  several  questions  to  the 
dragoon.  She  then  learned  that  the  nephew  of  old 
Madame  Hochon,  the  friend  of  her  mother,  played  a 
considerable  part  in  literature.  Philippe  and  his  friend 
Giroudeau  lived  among  a  circle  of  journalists,  actresses, 
and  booksellers,  where  they  were  regarded  in  the  light 
of  cashiers.  Philippe,  who  had  been  drinking  kirsch 
before  posing,  was  loquacious.  He  boasted  that  he  was 
about  to  become  a  great  man.  But  when  Joseph  asked 
a  question  as  to  his  pecuniary  resources  he  was  dumb. 
It  so  happened  that  there  was  no  newspaper  on  the  fol- 
lowing day,  it  being  a  fete,  and  to  finish  the  picture, 
Philippe  proposed  to  sit  again  on  the  morrow.  Joseph 
told  him  that  the  Salon  was  close  at  hand,  and  as  he 
did  not  have  the  money  to  buy  two  frames  for  the  pic- 
tures he  wished  to  exhibit,  he  was  forced  to  procure  it 
by  finishing  a£opy  of  a  Rubens  which  had  been  ordered 
hy  Elie  Magus,  the  picture-dealer.  The  original  be- 
longed to  a  wealthy  Swiss  banker,  who  had  only  lent  it 
for  ten  days,  and  the  next  day  was  the  last ;  the  sitting 
must  therefore  be  put  off  till  the  following  Sunday. 

"  Is  that  it?  "  asked  Philippe,  pointing  to  a  picture 
by  Rubens  on  an  easel. 

"Yes,"  replied  Joseph;  "it  is  worth  twent}'  thou- 
sand francs.  That 's  what  genius  can  do.  It  will  take  me 
all  to-morrow  to  get  the  tones  of  the  original  and  make 
the  copy  look  so  old  it  can't  be  distinguished  from  it." 


The  Two  Brothers.  Ill 

"  Adieu,  mother,"  said  Philippe,  kissing  Agathe. 
''Next  Sunday,  then." 

The  next  day  Elie  Magus  was  to  come  for  his  copy. 
Joseph's  friend,  Pierre  Grassou,  who  was  working  for 
the  same  dealer,  wanted  to  see  it  when  finished.  To 
play  him  a  trick,  Joseph,  when  he  heard  his  knock,  put 
the  copy,  which  was  varnished  with  a  special  glaze  of 
his  own,  in  place  of  the  original,  and  put  the  original 
on  his  easel.  Pierre  Grassou  was  completely  taken  in  ; 
and  then  amazed  and  delighted  at  Joseph's  success. 

' ■  Do  you  think  it  will  deceive  old  Magus  ?  "  he  said 
to  Joseph. 

"  We  shall  see,"  answered  the  latter. 

The  dealer  did  not  come  as  he  had  promised.  It  was 
getting  late  ;  Agathe  dined  that  day  with  Madame  Des- 
roches,  who  had  lately  lost  her  husband,  and  Joseph 
proposed  to  Pierre  Grassou  to  dine  at  his  table  d'hote. 
As  he  went  out  he  left  the  key  of  his  studio  with  the 
concierge. 

An  hour  later  Philippe  appeared  and  said  to  the  con- 
cierge, — 

"lam  to  sit  this  evening;  Joseph  will  be  in  soon, 
and  I  will  wait  for  him  in  the  studio." 

The  woman  gave  him  the  key ;  Philippe  went  up- 
stairs, took  the  copy,  thinking  it  was  the  original,  and 
went  down  again ;  returned  the  key  to  the  concierge 
with  the  excuse  that  he  had  forgotten  something,  and 
hurried  off  to  sell  his  Rubens  for  three  thousand  francs. 
He  had  taken  the  precaution  to  conve}*  a  message  from 
his  brother  to  Elie  Magus,  asking  him  not  to  call  till 
the  following  day. 

That  evening  when  Joseph  returned,  bringing  his 
mother  from  Madame  Desroches's,  the  concierge  told 


112  The  Two  Brothers. 

him  of  Philippe's  freak,  —  how  he  had  called  intending 
to  wait,  and  gone  away  again  immediately. 

"I  am  ruined  —  unless  he  has  had  the  delicac}'  to 
take  the  copy,"  cried  the  painter,  instantly  suspecting  the 
theft.  He  ran  rapidly  up  the  three  flights  and  rushed 
into  his  studio.  "God  be  praised!"  he  ejaculated. 
"  He  is,  what  he  always  has  been,  a  vile  scoundrel." 

Agathe,  who  had  followed  Joseph,  did  not  understand 
what  he  was  saying ;  but  when  her  son  explained  what 
had  happened,  she  stood  still,  with  the  tears  in  her 
eyes. 

44  Have  I  but  one  son?  "  she  said  in  a  broken  voice. 

"  We  have  never  yet  degraded  him  to  the  eyes  of 
strangers,"  said  Joseph;  "but  we  must  now  warn  the 
concierge.  In  future  we  shall  have  to  keep  the  keys 
ourselves.  I  '11  finish  his  blackguard  face  from  memory  ; 
there  's  not  much  to  do  to  it." 

' '  Leave  it  as  it  is  ;  it  will  pain  me  too  much  ever  to 
look  at  it,"  answered  the  mother,  heart-stricken  and 
stupefied  at  such  wickedness. 

Philippe  had  been  told  how  the  money  for  this  copy 
was  to  be  expended  ;  moreover  he  knew  the  abyss  into 
which  he  would  plunge  his  brother  through  the  loss  of 
the  Rubens ;  but  nothing  restrained  him.  After  this 
last  crime  Agathe  never  mentioned  him  ;  her  face  ac- 
quired an  expression  of  cold  and  concentrated  and  bit- 
ter despair ;  one  thought  took  possession  of  her  mind. 

ik  Some  day,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  we  shall  hear  of 
a  Bridau  in  the  police-courts." 

Two  months  later,  as  Agathe  was  about  to  start  for 
her  office,  an  old  officer,  who  announced  himself  as  a 
friend  of  Philippe  on  urgent  business,  called  on  Madame 
Bridau,  who  happened  to  be  in  Joseph's  studio. 


The  Two  Brothers.  118 

When  Giroudeau  gave  his  name,  mother  and  son 
trembled,  and  none  the  less  because  the  ex-dragoon  had 
the  face  of  a  tough  old  sailor  of  the  worst  type.  His 
fishy  gray  eyes,  his  piebald  moustache,  the  remains  of 
his  shaggy  hair  fringing  a  skull  that  was  the  color  of 
fresh  butter,  all  gave  an  indescribably  debauched  and 
libidinous  expression  to  his  appearance.  He  wore  an 
old  iron-gray  overcoat  decorated  with  the  red  ribbon  of 
an  officer  of  the  Legion  of  honor,  which  met  with  diffi- 
cult}- over  a  gastronomic  stomach  in  keeping  with  a 
mouth  that  stretched  from  ear  to  ear,  and  a  pair  of 
powerful  shoulders.  The  torso  was  supported  b}-  a 
spindling  pair  of  legs,  while  the  rubicund  tints  on  the 
cheek-bones  bore  testimony  to  a  rollicking  life.  The 
lower  part  of  the  cheeks,  which  were  deeply  wrinkled, 
overhung  a  coat-collar  of  velvet  the  worse  for  wear. 
Among  other  adornments,  the  ex-dragoon  wore  enor- 
mous gold  rings  in  his  ears. 

"  What  a  noceur!"  thought  Joseph,  using  a  popular 
expression,  meaning  a  u  loose  fish,"  which  had  lately 
passed  into  the  ateliers. 

44  Madame,"  said  Finot's  uncle  and  cashier,  "your 
son  is  in  so  unfortunate  a  position  that  his  friends  find 
it  absolutely  necessary  to  ask  you  to  share  the  some- 
what heavy  expense  which  he  is  to  them.  He  can  no 
longer  do  his  work  at  the  office ;  and  Mademoiselle 
Florentine,  of  the  Porte-Saint-Martin,  has  taken  him  to 
lodge  with  her,  in  a  miserable  attic  in  the  rue  de  Ven- 
dome.  Philippe  is  dying ;  and  if  you  and  his  brother 
are  not  able  to  pay  for  the  doctor  and  medicines,  we 
shall  be  obliged,  for  the  sake  of  curing  him,  to  have 
him  taken  to  the  hospital  of  the  Capuchins.  For  three 
hundred  francs  we  would  keep  him  where  he  is.     But  he 

8 


114  The  Two  Brothers. 

must  have  a  nurse ;  for  at  night,  when  Mademoiselle 
Florentine  is  at  the  theatre,  he  persists  in  going  out, 
and  takes  things  that  are  irritating  and  injurious  to  his 
malady  and  its  treatment.  As  we  are  fond  of  him,  this 
makes  us  really  very  unhappy.  The  poor  fellow  has 
pledged  the  pension  of  his  cross  for  the  next  three 
years  ;  he  is  temporarily  displaced  from  his  office,  and 
he  has  literally  nothing.  He  will  kill  himself,  madame, 
unless  we  can  put  him  into  the  private  asylum  of  Doc- 
tor Dubois.  It  is  a  decent  hospital,  where  they  will  take 
him  for  ten  francs  a  day.  Florentine  and  I  will  pay 
half,  if  you  will  pay  the  rest ;  it  won't  be  for  more  than 
two  months." 

"Monsieur,  it  is  difficult  for  a  mother  not  to  be  eter- 
nally grateful  to  you  for  3'our  kindness  to  her  son,"  re- 
plied Agathe  ;  M  but  this  son  is  banished  from  my  heart, 
and  as  for  money,  I  have  none.  Not  to  be  a  burden 
on  m3T  son  whom  you  see  here,  who  works  day  and 
night  and  deserves  all  the  love  his  mother  can  give  him, 
I  am  the  assistant  in  a  lotteiy-office  —  at  my  age  !  " 

"And  3'ou,  young  man,"  said  the  old  dragoon  to 
Joseph;  "can't  3-011  do  as  much  for  3*our  brother  as 
a  poor  dancer  at  the  Porte-Sainte-Martin  and  an  old 
soldier?" 

"Look  here!"  said  Joseph,  out  of  patience;  "do 
3*011  want  me  to  tell  you  in  artist  language  what  I  think 
of  your  visit?  Well,  you  have  come  to  swindle  us  on 
false  pretences." 

' '  To-morrow  3~our  brother  shall  go  to  the  hospital." 

"  And  he  will  do  ver3*  well  there,"  answered  Joseph. 
"  If  I  were  in  a  like  case,  I  should  go  there  too." 

Giroudeau  withdrew,  much  disappointed,  and  also 
realty  mortified  at  being  obliged  to  send  to  a  hospital 


The  Two  Brothers.  115 

a  man  wlio  had  carried  the  Emperor's  orders  at  the  bat- 
tle of  Montereau.  Three  months  later,  at  the  end  of 
Jul}-,  as  Agathe  one  morning  was  crossing  the  Pont 
Neuf  to  avoid  paying  a  sou  at  the  Pont  des  Arts,  she 
saw,  coming  along  03-  the  shops  of  the  Quai  de  l'Ecole, 
a  man  bearing  all  the  signs  of  second-class  poverty, 
who,  she  thought,  resembled  Philippe.  In  Paris,  there 
are  three  distinct  classes  of  poverty.  First,  the  poverty 
of  the  man  who  preserves  appearances,  and  to  whom  a 
future  still  belongs  ;  this  is  the  poverty  of  young  men, 
artists,  men  of  the  world,  momentarily  unfortunate. 
The  outward  signs  of  their  distress  are  not  visible,  ex- 
cept under  the  microscope  of  a  close  observer.  These 
persons  are  the  equestrian  order  of  poverty ;  they  con- 
tinue to  drive  about  in  cabriolets.  In  the  second  order 
we  find  old  men  who  have  become  indifferent  to  every- 
thing, and,  in  June,  put  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  honor 
on  alpaca  overcoats ;  that  is  the  poverty  of  small  in- 
comes, —  of  old  clerks,  who  live  at  Sainte-Perine  and 
care  no  longer  about  their  outward  man.  Then  comes, 
in  the  third  place,  poverty  in  rags,  the  poverty  of  the 
people,  the  poverty  that  is  poetic ;  which  Callot,  Ho- 
garth, Murillo,  Charlet,  Raffet,  Gavarni,  Meissonier, 
Art  itself  adores  and  cultivates,  especially  during  the 
carnival.  The  man  in  whom  poor  Agathe  thought  she 
recognized  her  son  was  astride  the  last  two  classes  of 
poverty.  She  saw  the  ragged  neck-cloth,  the  scurfy 
hat,  the  broken  and  patched  boots,  the  threadbare  coat, 
whose  buttons  had  shed  their  mould,  leaving  the  empty 
shrivelled  pod  dangling  in  congruity  with  the  torn  pockets 
and  the  dirty  collar.  Scraps  of  flue  were  in  the  creases 
of  the  coat,  which  showed  plainly  the  dust  that  filled  it. 
The  man  drew  from  the  pockets  of  his  seam-rent  iron- 


116  The  Two  Brothers. 

gray  trousers  a  pair  of  hands  as  black  as  those  of  a 
mechanic.  A  knitted  woollen  waistcoat,  discolored  by 
use,  showed  below  the  sleeves  of  his  coat,  and  above 
the  trousers,  and  no  doubt  served  instead  of  a  shirt. 
Philippe  wore  a  green  silk  shade  with  a  wire  edge  over 
his  eyes ;  his  head,  which  was  nearty  bald,  the  tints  of 
his  skin,  and  his  sunken  face  too  plainly  revealed  that 
he  was  just  leaving  the  terrible  Hopital  du  Midi.  His 
blue  overcoat,  whitened  at  the  seams,  was  still  decorated 
with  the  ribbon  of  his  cross  ;  and  the  passers-bjT  looked 
at  the  hero,  doubtless  some  victim  of  the  government, 
with  curiosity  and  commiseration  ;  the  rosette  attracted 
notice,  and  the  fiercest  "ultra"  was  jealous  for  the 
honor  of  the  Legion.  In  those  da3's,  however  much 
the  government  endeavored  to  bring  the  Order  into  dis- 
repute by  bestowing  its  cross  right  and  left,  there  were 
not  fifty-three  thousand  persons  decorated. 

Agathe  trembled  through  her  whole  being.  If  it  were 
impossible  to  love  this  son  any  longer,  she  could  still 
suffer  for  him.  Quivering  with  this  last  expression  of 
motherhood,  she  wept  as  she  saw  the  brilliant  staff 
officer  of  the  Emperor  turn  to  enter  a  tobacconist's  and 
pause  on  the  threshold ;  he  had  felt  in  his  pocket  and 
found  nothing.  Agathe  left  the  bridge,  crossed  the  quai 
rapidly,  took  out  her  purse,  thrust  it  into  Philippe's 
hand,  and  fled  away  as  if  she  had  committed  a  crime. 
After  that,  she  ate  nothing  for  two  days ;  before  her 
was  the  horrible  vision  of  her  son  dying  of  hunger  in 
the  streets  of  Paris. 

"  When  he  has  spent  all  the  mone}r  in  my  purse,  who 
will  give  him  airy?"  she  thought.  "Giroudeau  did  not 
deceive  us  ;  Philippe  is  just  out  of  that  hospital." 

She  no  longer  saw  the  assassin  of  her  poor  aunt,  the 


The  Two  Brothers.  117 

scourge  of  the  family,  the  domestic  thief,  the  gambler, 
the  drunkard,  the  low  liver  of  a  bad  life  ;  she  saw  onl}* 
the  man  recovering  from  illness,  yet  doomed  to  die  of 
starvation,  the  smoker  deprived  of  his  tobacco.  At 
forty-seven  years  of  age  she  grew  to  look  like  a  woman 
of  seventy.  Her  eyes  were  dimmed  with  tears  and  pray- 
ers. Yet  it  was  not  the  last  grief  this  son  was  to  bring 
upon  her ;  her  worst  apprehensions  were  destined  to  be 
realized.  A  conspiracy  of  officers  was  discovered  at  the 
heart  of  the  army,  and  articles  from  the  "Moniteur" 
giving  details  of  the  arrests  were  hawked  about  the 
streets. 

In  the  depths  of  her  cage  in  the  lottery-office  of  the 
rue  Vivienne,  Agathe  heard  the  name  of  Philippe  Bri- 
dau.  She  fainted,  and  the  manager,  understanding 
her  trouble  and  the  necessit\r  of  taking  certain  steps, 
gave  her  leave  of  absence  for  two  weeks. 

"  Ah  !  my  friend,"  she  said  to  Joseph,  as  she  went  to 
bed  that  night,  "  it  is  our  severity  which  drove  him  to  it." 

"I'll  go  and  see  Desroches,"  answered  Joseph. 

While  the  artist  was  confiding  his  brother's  affairs  to 
the  younger  Desroches,  —  who  by  this  time  had  the  re- 
putation of  being  one  of  the  keenest  and  most  astute 
lawyers  in  Paris,  and  who,  moreover,  did  sundry  ser- 
vices for  personages  of  distinction,  among  others  for  des 
Lupeaulx,  then  secretar}'  of  a  ministry,  —  Giroudeau 
called  upon  the  widow.    This  time,  Agathe  believed  him. 

M  Madame,"  he  said,  "  if  3-011  can  produce  twelve 
thousand  francs,  your  son  will  be  set  at  libert}r  for 
want  of  proof.  It  is  necessary  to  bu3T  the  silence  of 
two  witnesses." 

"  I  will  get  the  money,"  said  the  poor  mother,  with- 
out knowing  how  or  where. 


118  The  Two  Brothers. 

Inspired  by  this  danger,  she  wrote  to  her  godmother, 
old  Madame  Hochon,  begging  her  to  ask  Jean-Jacques 
Rouget  to  send  her  the  twelve  thousand  francs  and  save 
his  nephew  Philippe.  If  Rouget  refused,  she  entreated 
Madame  Hochon  to  lend  them  to  her,  promising  to  re- 
turn them  in  two  years.  By  return  of  courier,  she  re- 
ceived the  following  letter  :  — 

My  dear  girl  :  Though  your  brother  has  an  income  of 
not  less  than  forty  thousand  francs  a  year,  without  counting 
the  sums  he  has  laid  by  for  the  last  seventeen  years,  and  which 
Monsieur  Hochon  estimates  at  more  than  six  hundred  thou- 
sand francs,  he  will  not  give  one  penny  to  nephews  whom  he  has 
never  seen.  As  for  me,  you  know  I  cannot  dispose  of  a  far- 
thing while  my  husband  lives.  Hochon  is  the  greatest  miser 
in  Issoudun.  I  do  not  know  what  he  does  with  his  money  ; 
he  does  not  give  twenty  francs  a  year  to  his  grandchildren. 
As  for  borrowing  the  money,  I  should  have  to  get  his  signa- 
ture, and  he  would  refuse  it.  I  have  not  even  attempted  to 
speak  to  your  brother,  who  lives  with  a  concubine,  to  whom 
he  is  a  slave.  It  is  pitiable  to  see  how  the  poor  man  is  treated 
in  his  own  home,  when  he  might  have  a  sister  and  nephews 
to  take  care  of  him. 

I  have  hinted  to  you  several  times  that  your  presence  at 
Issoudun  might  save  your  brother,  and  rescue  a  fortune  of 
forty,  perhaps  sixty,  thousand  francs  a  year  from  the  claws  of 
that  slut ;  but  you  either  do  not  answer  nie,  or  you  seem  never 
to  understand  my  meaning.  So  to-day  1  am  obliged  to  write 
without  epistolary  circumlocution.  I  feel  for  the  misfortune 
which  has  overtaken  you,  but,  my  dearest,  I  can  do  no  more 
than  pity  you.  And  this  is  why:  Hochon,  at  eighty -five  years 
of  age,  takes  four  meals  a  day,  eats  a  salad  with  hard-boiled 
eggs  every  night,  and  frisks  about  like  a  rabbit.  I  shall  have 
spent  my  whole  life  —  for  he  will  live  to  write  my  epitaph  — 
without  ever  having  had  twenty  francs  in  my  purse.  If  you 
will  come  to  Issoudun  and  counteract  the  influence  of  that 


The  Two  Brothers.  119 

concubine  over  your  brother,  you  must  stay  with  me,  for  there 
are  reasons  why  Rouget  cannot  receive  you  in  his  own  house ; 
but  even  then,  I  shall  have  hard  work  to  get  my  husband  to 
let  me  have  you  here.  However,  you  can  safely  come  ;  I  can 
make  him  mind  me  as  to  that.  I  know  a  way  to  get  what 
I  want  out  of  him  ;  I  have  only  to  speak  of  making  my  will. 
It  seems  such  a  horrid  thing  to  do  that  I  do  not  often  have 
recourse  to  it ;  but  for  you,  dear  Agathe,  I  will  do  the  im- 
possible. 

I  hope  your  Philippe  will  get  out  of  his  trouble;  and  T  beg 
you  to  employ  a  good  lawyer.  In  any  case,  come  to  Issoudun 
as  soon  as  you  can.  Remember  that  your  imbecile  of  a 
brother  at  fifty-seven  is  an  older  and  weaker  man  than  Mou- 
sieur  Hochon.  So  it  is  a  pressing  matter.  People  are  talk- 
ing already  of  a  will  that  cuts  off  your  inheritance;  but 
Monsieur  Hochon  says  there  is  still  time  to  get  it  revoked. 

Adieu,  my  little  Agathe;  may  God  help  you!  Believe  in 
the  love  of  your  godmother, 

Maximilienne  Hochon,  nee  Lousteau. 

P.  S.  Has  my  nephew,  Etienne,  who  writes  in  the  news- 
papers and  is  intimate,  they  tell  me,  with  your  son  Philippe, 
been  to  pay  his  respects  to  you?  But  come  at  once  to  Issou- 
dun, and  we  will  talk  over  things. 

This  letter  made  a  great  impression  on  Agathe,  who 
showed  it,  of  course,  to  Joseph,  to  whom  she  had 
been  forced  to  mention  Giroudeau's  proposal.  The 
artist,  who  grew  wary  when  it  concerned  his  brother, 
pointed  put  to  her  that  she  ought  to  tell  everything  to 
Desroches. 

Conscious  of  the  wisdom  of  that  advice,  Agathe  went 
with  her  son  the  next  morning,  at  six  o'clock,  to  find 
Desroches  at  his  house  in  the  rue  de  Bussy.  The 
lawyer,  as  cold  and  stern  as  his  late  father,  with  a  sharp 
voice,  a  rough  skin,  implacable  ej^es,  and  the  visage  oi 


120  The  Two  Brothers. 

a  fox  as  he  licks  his  lips  of  the  blood  of  chickens, 
bounded  like  a  tiger  when  he  heard  of  Giroudeau's  visit 
and  proposal. 

"And  pray,  mere  Bridau,"  he  cried,  in  his  little 
cracked  voice,  "  how  long  are  you  going  to  be  duped 
b}T  your  cursed  brigand  of  a  son  ?  Don't  give  him  a  far- 
thing. Make  yourself  eas}-,  I  '11  answer  for  Philippe. 
I  should  like  to  see  him  brought  before  the  Court  of 
Peers  ;  it  might  save  his  future.  You  are  afraid  he  will 
be  condemned  ;  but  I  say,  may  it  please  God  his  law}Ter 
lets  him  be  convicted.  Go  to  Issoudun,  secure  the 
propertj-  for  }X)ur  children.  If  you  don't  succeed,  if 
your  brother  has  made  a  will  in  favor  of  that  woman, 
and  you  can't  make  him  revoke  it,  —  well  then,  at  least 
get  all  the  evidence  3011  can  of  undue  influence,  and  I'll 
institute  proceedings  for  3*011.  But  you  are  too  honest 
a  woman  to  know  how  to  get  at  the  bottom  facts  of  such 
a  matter.  I  '11  go  myself  to  Issoudun  in  the  holida3'S, 
—  if  I  can." 

That  "  go  mj-self "  made  Joseph  tremble  in  his  skin. 
Desroches  winked  at  him  to  let  his  mother  go  down- 
stairs first,  and  then  the  lawyer  detained  the  young  man 
for  a  single  moment. 

'*  Your  brother  is  a  great  scoundrel ;  he  is  the  cause 
of  the  discovery  of  this  conspirac}', —  intentionally  or 
not  I  can't  say,  for  the  rascal  is  so  si}'  no  one  can 
find  out  the  exact  truth  as  to  that.  Fool  or  traitor,  — 
take  your  choice.  He  will  be  put  under  the  surveillance 
of  the  police,  nothing  more.  You  need  n't  be  uneas}- ; 
no  one  knows  this  secret  but  myself.  Go  to  Issoudun 
with  your  mother.  You  have  good  sense  ;  try  to  save 
the  property." 

"Come,  my  poor  mother,  Desroches  is  right,"  said 


The  Two  Brothers.  121 

Joseph,  rejoining  Agathe  on  the  staircase.  "I  have 
sold  my  two  pictures,  let  us  start  for  Berry  ;  you  have 
two  weeks'  leave  of  absence." 

After  writing  to  her  godmother  to  announce  their  ar- 
rival, Agathe  and  Joseph  started  the  next  evening  for 
their  trip  to  Issoudun,  leaving  Philippe  to  his  fate. 
The  diligence  rolled  through  the  rue  d'  Enter  toward  the 
Orleans  highroad.  When  Agathe  saw  the  Luxembourg, 
to  which  Philippe  had  been  transferred,  she  could  not 
refrain  from  saying,  — 

"If  it  were  not  for  the  Allies  he  would  never  be 
there  !  " 

Many  sons  would  have  made  an  impatient  gesture 
and  smiled  with  pity  ;  but  the  artist,  who  was  alone  with 
his  mother  in  the  coupe,  caught  her  in  his  arms  and 
pressed  her  to  his  heart,  exclaiming :  — 

M  Oh,  mother!  you  are  a  mother  just  as  Raphael 
was  a  painter.  And  you  will  always  be  a  fool  of  a 
mother !  " 

Madame  Bridau's  mind,  diverted  before  long  from 
her  griefs  by  the  distractions  of  the  journey,  began  to 
dwell  on  the  purpose  of  it.  She  re-read  the  letter  of 
Madame  Hochon,  which  had  so  stirred  up  the  lawyer 
Desroches.  Struck  with  the  words  t;  concubine  "  and 
kt  slut,"  which  the  pen  of  a  septuagenarian  as  pious  as 
she  was  respectable  had  used  to  designate  the  woman 
now  in  process  of  getting  hold  of  Jean-Jacques  Rouget's 
property,  struck  also  with  the  word  "  imbecile"  applied 
to  Rouget  himself,  she  began  to  ask  herself  how,  by  her 
presence  at  Issoudun,  she  was  to  save  the  inheritance. 
Joseph,  poor  disinterested  artist  that  he  was,  kuew 
little  enough  about  the  Code,  and  his  mother's  last  re- 
mark absorbed  his  mind. 


122  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Before  our  friend  Desroches  sent  us  off  to  protect 
our  rights,  he  ought  to  have  explained  to  us  the  means 
of  doing  so,"  he  exclaimed. 

u  So  far  as  my  poor  head,  which  whirls  at  the  thought 
of  Philippe  in  prison,  —  without  tobacco,  perhaps,  and 
about  to  appear  before  the  Court  of  Peers  !  —  leaves  me 
any  distinct  memory,"  returned  Agathe,  "  I  think 
young  Desroches  said  we  were  to  get  evidence  of  undue 
influence,  in  case  my  brother  has  made  a  will  in  favor 
of  that  —  that  —  woman." 

"  He  is  good  at  that,  Desroches  is,"  cried  the  painter. 
"  Bah !  if  we  can  make  nothing  of  it  I  '11  get  him  to 
come  himself." 

44  Well,  don't  let  us  trouble  our  heads  uselessly," 
said  Agathe.  "  When  we  get  to  Issoudun  my  godmother 
will  tell  us  what  to  do." 

This  conversation,  which  took  place  just  after  Madame 
Bridau  and  Joseph  changed  coaches  at  Orleans  and  en- 
tered the  Sologne,  is  sufficient  proof  of  the  incapacity 
of  the  painter  and  his  mother  to  play  the  part  the  inex- 
orable Desroches  had  assigned  to  them. 

In  returning  to  Issoudun  after  thirty  years'  absence, 
Agathe  was  about  to  find  such  changes  in  its  manners 
and  customs  that  it  is  necessary  to  sketch,  in  a  few 
words,  a  picture  of  that  town.  Without  it,  the  reader 
would  scarcely  understand  the  heroism  displayed  by 
Madame  Hochon  in  assisting  her  goddaughter,  or  the 
strange  situation  of  Jean-Jacques  Rouget.  Though 
Doctor  Rouget  had  taught  his  son  to  regard  Agathe  in 
the  light  of  a  stranger,  it  was  certainly  a  somewhat  ex- 
traordinary thing  that  for  thirty  years  a  brother  should 
have  given  no  signs  of  life  to  a  sister.  Such  a  silence 
was  evidently  caused  by  peculiar  circumstances,   and 


The  Two  Brothers.  123 

any  other  sister  and  nephew  than  Agathe  and  Joseph 
would  long  ago  have  inquired  into  them.  There  is, 
moreover,  a  certain  connection  between  the  condition  of 
the  city  of  Issoudun  and  the  interests  of  the  Bridau 
family,  which  can  only  be  seen  as  the  story  goes  on. 


124  The  Two  Brothers. 


VII. 


Issoudun,  be  it  said  without  offence  to  Paris,  is  one 
of  the  oldest  cities  in  France.  In  spite  of  the  historical 
assumption  which  makes  the  emperor  Probus  the  Noah 
of  the  Gauls,  Caesar  speaks  of  the  excellent  wine  of 
Champ-Fort  (de  Campo  Forti)  still  one  of  the  best 
vintages  of  Issoudun.  Rigord  writes  of  this  city  in 
language  which  leaves  no  doubt  as  to  its  great  popula- 
tion and  its  immense  commerce.  But  these  testimonies 
both  assign  a  much  lesser  age  to  the  city  than  its  ac- 
tual antiquit}'  demands.  In  fact,  the  excavations  lately 
undertaken  by  a  learned  archaeologist  of  the  place,  Mon- 
sieur Armand  Peremet,  have  brought  to  light,  under  the 
celebrated  tower  of  Issoudun,  a  basilica  of  the  fifth 
century,  probablj*  the  only  one  in  France.  This  church 
preserves,  in  its  very  materials,  the  sign-manual  of  an 
anterior  civilization  ;  for  its  stones  came  from  a  Roman 
temple  which  stood  on  the  same  site. 

Issoudun,  therefore,  according  to  the  researches  of 
this  antiquary,  like  other  cities  of  France  whose  ancient 
or  modern  autonym  ends  in  Dun  (dunum)  bears  in  its 
very  name  the  certificate  of  an  autochthonous  existence. 
The  word  Dun,  the  appanage  of  all  dignity  consecrated 
b}r  Druidical  worship,  proves  a  religious  and  military 
settlement  of  the  Celts.  Beneath  the  Dun  of  the  Gauls 
must  have  lain  the  Roman  temple  to  Isis.  From  that 
comes,  according  to  Chaumon,  the  name  of  the  cit\',  Is- 
sous-Dun,  —  Is  being  the  abbreviation  of  Isis.     Richard 


The  Two  Brothers.  1 25 

Cceur-de-lion  undoubtedly  built  the  famous  tower  (in 
which  he  coined  money)  above  the  basilica  of  the  fifth 
centuiy,  —  the  third  monument  of  the  third  religion  of 
this  ancient  town.  He  used  the  church  as  a  neces- 
sary foundation,  or  stay,  for  the  raising  of  the  ram- 
part ;  and  he  preserved  it  by  covering  it  with  feudal 
fortifications  as  with  a  mantle.  Issoudun  was  at  that 
time  the  seat  of  the  ephemeral  power  of  the  Routiers 
and  the  Cottereaux,  adventurers  and  free-lances,  whom 
Hemy  II.  sent  against  his  son  Richard,  at  the  time  of 
his  rebellion  as  Comte  de  Poitou. 

The  history  of  Aquitaine,  which  was  not  written  by 
the  Benedictines,  will  probably  never  be  written,  because 
there  are  no  longer  Benedictines :  thus  we  are  not  able 
to  light  up  these  archaeological  tenebrae  in  the  history 
of  our  manners  and  customs  on  every  occasion  of  their 
appearance.  There  is  another  testimon}7  to  the  ancient 
importance  of  Issoudun  in  the  conversion  into  a  canal 
of  the  Tournemine,  a  little  stream  raised  several  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  Theols  which  surrounds  the 
town.  This  is  undoubtedly  the  work  of  Roman  genius. 
Moreover,  the  suburb  which  extends  from  the  castle  in 
a  northerly  direction  is  intersected  by  a  street  which  for 
more  than  two  thousand  years  has  borne  the  name  of 
the  rue  de  Rome  ;  and  the  inhabitants  of  this  suburb, 
whose  racial  characteristics,  blood,  and  physiognomy 
have  a  special  stamp  of  their  own,  call  themselves 
descendants  of  the  Romans.  The}'  are  nearly  all  vine- 
growers,  and  display  a  remarkable  inflexibilit}T  of  man- 
ners and  customs,  due,  undoubtedly,  to  their  origin,  — 
perhaps  also  to  their  victory  over  the  Cottereaux  and 
the  Routiers,  whom  they  exterminated  on  the  plain  of 
Charost  in  the  twelfth  centur}\ 


126  The  Two  Brothers. 

After  the  insurrection  of  1830,  France  was  too  agi- 
tated to  pa}T  much  attention  to  the  rising  of  the  vine- 
growers  of  Issoudun ;  a  terrible  affair,  the  facts  of 
which  have  never  been  made  public,  —  for  good  rea- 
sons. In  the  first  place,  the  bourgeois  of  Issoudun 
refused  to  allow  the  military  to  enter  the  town.  Thej- . 
followed  the  use  and  wont  of  the  bourgeoisie  of  the 
Middle  Ages  and  declared  themselves  responsible  for 
their  own  city.  The  government  was  obliged  to  yield 
to  a  sturdy  people  backed  up  by  seven  or  eight  thou- 
sand vine-growers,  who  had  burned  all  the  archives,  also 
the  offices  of  "indirect  taxation,"  and  had  dragged 
through  the  streets  a  customs  officer,  crying  out  at 
every  street  lantern,  "  Let  us  hang  him  here!  "  The 
poor  man's  life  was  saved  from  these  madmen  b}r  the 
national  guard,  who  took  him  to  prison  on  pretext  of 
drawing  up  his  indictment.  The  general  in  command 
only  entered  the  town  by  virtue  of  a  compromise  made 
with  the  vine-growers ;  and  it  needed  some  courage  to 
go  among  them.  At  the  moment  when  he  showed  him- 
self at  the  hotel-de-ville,  a  man  from  the  faubourg  de 
Rome  slung  a  volant  round  his  neck  (the  volant  is  a 
huge  pruning-hook  fastened  to  a  pole,  with  which  they 
trim  trees)  crying  out,  "No  more  clerks,  or  there's  an 
end  to  compromise  !  "  The  fellow  would  have  taken  off 
that  honored  head,  left  untouched  by  sixteen  years  of 
war,  had  it  not  been  for  the  hasty  intervention  of  one  of 
the  leaders  of  the  revolt,  to  whom  a  promise  had  been 
made  that  the  Chambers  should  be  asked  to  suppress 
the  excisemen. 

In  the  fourteenth  century,  Issoudun  still  had  six- 
teen or  seventeen  thousand  inhabitants,  remains  of  a 
population  double  that  number  in  the  time  of  Kigord. 


The  Two  Brothers.  127 

Charles  VII.  possessed  a  mansion  which  still  exists,  and 
was  known,  as  late  as  the  eighteenth  century,  as  the 
Maison  du  Roi.  This  town,  then  a  centre  of  the  woollen 
trade,  supplied  that  commodity  to  the  greater  part  of 
Europe,  and  manufactured  on  a  large  scale  blankets, 
hats,  and  the  excellent  Chevreautin  gloves.  Under 
Louis  XIV.,  Issoudun,  the  birthplace  of  Baron  and 
Bourdaloue,  was  always  cited  as  a  city  of  elegance  and 
good  society,  where  the  language  was  correctlj'  spoken. 
The  curate  Poupard,  in  his  History  of  Sancerre,  men- 
tions the  inhabitants  of  Issoudun  as  remarkable  among 
the  other  Berrichons  for  subtlety  and  natural  wit.  To- 
da}',  the  wit  and  the  splendor  have  alike  disappeared. 
Issoudun,  whose  great  extent  of  ground  bears  witness 
to  its  ancient  importance,  has  now  barely  twelve  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  including  the  vine-dressers  of  four 
enormous  suburbs, — those  of  Saint-Paterne,  Vilatte, 
Rome,  and  Alouette,  which  are  really  small  towns.  The 
bourgeoisie,  like  that  of  Versailles,  are  spread  over  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  streets.  Issoudun  still  holds 
the  market  for  the  fleeces  of  Berry ;  a  commerce  now 
threatened  by  improvements  in  the  stock  which  are  be- 
ing introduced  everywhere  except  in  Berry. 

The  vineyards  of  Issoudun  produce  a  wine  which  is 
drunk  throughout  the  two  departments,  and  which,  if 
manufactured  as  Burgundy  and  Gascony  manufacture 
theirs,  would  be  oneof  the  best  wines  in  France.  Alas, 
4>  to  do  as  our  fathers  did,"  with  no  innovations,  is  the 
law  of  the  land.  Accordingly,  the  vine-growers  continue 
to  leave  the  refuse  of  the  grape  in  the  juice  during  its 
fermentation,  which  makes  the  wine  detestable,  when  it 
might  be  a  source  of  ever-springing  wealth,  and  an  in- 
dustry for  the  community.     Thanks  to  the  bitterness 


128  The  Tivo  Brothers. 

which  the  refuse  infuses  into  the  wine,  and  which,  they 
say,  lessens  with  age,  a  vintage  will  keep  a  century. 
This  reason,  given  by  the  vine-grower  in  excuse  for  his 
obstinacy,  is  of  sufficient  importance  to  oenology  to  be 
made  public  here ;  Guillaume  le  Breton  lias  also  pro- 
claimed it  in  some  lines  of  his  "  Philippide." 

The  decline  of  Issoudun  is  explained  by  this  spirit  of 
sluggishness,  sunken  to  actual  torpor,  which  a  single 
fact  will  illustrate.  When  the  authorities  were  talking 
of  a  highroad  between  Paris  and  Toulouse,  it  was  nat- 
ural to  think  of  taking  it  from  Vierzon  to  Chateauroux 
by  wa}'  of  Issoudun.  The  distance  was  shorter  than  to 
make  it,  as  the  road  now  is,  through  Vatan.  But  the 
leading  people  of  the  neighborhood  and  the  city  council 
of  Issoudun  (whose  discussion  of  the  matter  is  said 
to  be  recorded),  demanded  that  it  should  go  by  Vatan, 
on  the  ground  that  if  the  highroad  went  through  their 
town,  provisions  would  rise  in  price  and  they  might 
be  forced  to  pay  thirty  sous  for  a  chicken.  The  only 
analogy  to  be  found  for  this  proceeding  is  in  the  wilder 
parts  of  Sardinia,  a  land  once  so  rich  and  populous, 
now  so  deserted.  When  Charles  Albert,  with  a  praise- 
worthy intention  of  civilization ,  wished  to  unite  Sassari. 
the  second  capital  of  the  island,  with  Cagliari  by  a  mag- 
nificent highway  (the  only  one  ever  made  in  that  wild 
waste  b}r  name  Sardinia),  the  direct  line  lay  through 
Bornova,  a  district  inhabited  by  a  lawless  people,  all 
the  more  like  our  Arab  tribes  because  the}r  are  de- 
scended from  the  Moors.  Seeing  that  they  were  about 
to  fall  into  the  clutches  of  civilization,  the  savages  of 
Bornova,  without  taking  the  trouble  to  discuss  the  mat- 
ter, declared  their  opposition  to  the  road.  The  govern- 
ment took  no  notice  of  it.     The  first  engineer  who  came 


The  Two  Brothers.  129 

to  survey  it,  got  a  ball  through  his  head,  and  died  on 
his  level.  No  action  was  taken  on  this  murder,  but  the 
road  made  a  circuit  which  lengthened  it  by  eight  miles  ! 

The  continual  lowering  of  the  price  of  wines  drunk  in 
the  neighborhood,  though  it  may  satisfy  the  desire  of 
the  bourgeoisie  of  Issoudun  for  cheap  provisions,  is 
leading  the  way  to  the  ruin  of  the  vine-growers,  who 
are  more  and  more  burdened  with  the  costs  of  cultiva- 
tion and  the  taxes  ;  just  as  the  ruin  of  the  woollen  trade 
is  the  result  of  the  non-improvement  in  the  breeding  of 
sheep.  Country-folk  have  the  deepest  horror  of  change  ; 
even  that  which  is  most  conducive  to  their  interests.  In 
the  countiy,  a  Parisian  meets  a  laborer  who  eats  an 
enormous  quantity  of  bread,  cheese,  and  vegetables  ;  he 
proves  to  him  that  if  he  would  substitute  for  that  diet 
a  certain  portion  of  meat,  he  would  be  better  fed, 
at  less  cost ;  that  he  could  work  more,  and  would  not 
use  up  his  capital  of  health  and  strength  so  quickly. 
The  Berrichon  sees  the  correctness  of  the  calculation, 
but  he  answers,  "  Think  of  the  gossip,  monsieur." 
"Gossip,  what  do  }~ou  mean  ?  "  "Well,  3-es,  what  would 
people  say  of  me?"  "He  would  be  the  talk  of  the 
neighborhood,"  said  the  owner  of  the  property  on  which 
this  scene  took  place  ;  "  they  would  think  him  as  rich  as 
a  tradesman.  He  is  afraid  of  public  opinion,  afraid  of 
being  pointed  at,  afraid  of  seeming  ill  or  feeble.  That 's 
how  we  all  are  in  this  region."  Many  of  the  bourgeoisie 
utter  this  phrase  with  feelings  of  inward  pride. 

While  ignorance  and  custom  are  invincible  in  the 
country  regions,  where  the  peasants  are  left  very  much 
to  themselves,  the  town  of  Issoudun  itself  has  reached 
a  state  of  complete  social  stagnation.  Obliged  to  meet 
the  decadence  of  fortunes  by  the  practice  of  sordid  econ- 


130  The  Two  Brothers. 

omy,  each  family  lives  to  itself.  Moreover,  society  is 
permanently  deprived  of  that  distinction  of  classes  which 
gives  character  to  manners  and  customs.  There  is  no 
opposition  of  social  forces,  such  as  that  to  which  the 
cities  of  the  Italian  States  in  the  Middle  Ages  owed  their 
vitality.  There  are  no  longer  any  nobles  in  Issoudun. 
The  Cottereaux,  the  Routiers,  the  Jacquerie,  the  relig- 
ious wars  and  the  Revolution  did  away  with  the  nobility. 
The  town  is  proud  of  that  triumph.  Issoudun  has  re- 
peatedly refused  to  receive  a  garrison,  always  on  the  plea 
of  cheap  provisions.  She  has  thus  lost  a  means  of  inter- 
course with  the  age,  and  she  has  also  lost  the  profits  aris- 
ing from  the  presence  of  troops.  Before  1756,  Issoudun 
was  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  all  the  garrison  towns. 
A  judicial  drama,  which  occupied  for  a  time  the  atten- 
tion of  France,  the  feud  of  a  lieutenant-general  of  the 
department  with  the  Marquis  de  Chapt,  whose  son,  an 
officer  of  dragoons,  was  put  to  death,  — justly  perhaps, 
yet  traitorously,  for  some  affair  of  gallantly,  —  deprived 
the  town  from  that  time  forth  of  a  garrison.  The  sojourn 
of  the  forty-fourth  demi-brigade,  imposed  upon  it  during 
the  civil  war,  was  not  of  a  nature  to  reconcile  the  inhabi- 
tants to  the  race  of  warriors. 

Bourges,  whose  population  is  yearly  decreasing,  is 
a  victim  of  the  same  social  malady.  Vitality  is  leaving 
these  communities.  Undoubtedly,  the  government  is  to 
blame.  The  duty  of  an  administration  is  to  discover 
the  wounds  upon  the  body-politic,  and  remedy  them  by 
sending  men  of  energy  to  the  diseased  regions,  with 
power  to  change  the  state  of  things.  Alas,  so  far  from 
that,  it  approves  and  encourages  this  ominous  and  fatal 
tranquillity.  Besides,  it  ma}T  be  asked,  how  could  the 
government  send  new  administrators  and  able  magis- 


The  T.vo  Brothers.  131 

trates?  Who,  of  such  men,  is  willing  to  bun-  himself 
in  the  arrondissements,  where  the  good  to  be  done  is 
without  glory?  If,  by  chance,  some  ambitious  stranger 
settles  there,  he  soon  falls  into  the  inertia  of  the  region, 
and  tunes  himself  to  the  dreadful  key  of  provincial  life. 
Issoudun  would  have  benumbed  Napoleon. 

As  a  result  of  this  particular  characteristic,  the  arron- 
dissement  of  Issoudun  was  governed,  in  1822,  by  men 
who  all  belonged  to  Berry.  The  administration  of  power 
became  either  a  nullhy-  or  a  farce,  —  except  in  certain 
cases,  naturally  very  rare,  which  by  their  manifest  impor- 
tance compelled  the  authorities  to  act.  The  procureur  du 
roi,  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  was  cousin  to  the  entire  com- 
munit}r,  and  his  substitute  belonged  to  one  of  the  families 
of  the  town.  The  judge  of  the  court,  before  attaining 
that  digntty -,  was  made  famous  by  one  of  those  provincial 
sayings  which  put  a  cap  and  bells  on  a  man's  head  for 
the  rest  of  his  life.  As  he  vended  his  summing-up  of  all 
the  facts  of  an  indictment,  he  looked  at  the  accused  and 
said  :  "  My  poor  Pierre  !  the  thing  is  as  plain  as  day  ; 
3'our  head  will  be  cut  off.  Let  this  be  a  lesson  to  yoa." 
The  commissary  of  police,  holding  that  office  since  the 
Restoration,  had  relations  throughout  the  arrondisse- 
ment.  Moreover,  not  onl}T  was  the  influence  of  religion 
null,  but  the  curate  himself  was  held  in  no  esteem. 

It  was  this  bourgeoisie,  radical,  ignorant,  and  loving 
to  anno}'  others,  which  now  related  tales,  more  or  less 
comic,  about  the  relations  of  Jean-Jacques  Rouget  with 
his  servant-woman.  The  children  of  these  people  went 
none  the  less  to  Sunday- school,  and  were  as  scrupu- 
lously prepared  for  their  communion  :  the  schools  were 
kept  up  all  the  same  ;  mass  was  said  ;  the  taxes  were 
paid  (the  sole  thing  that  Paris  exacts  of  the  provinces), 


132  The  Two  Brothers. 

and  the  mayor  passed  resolutions.  But  all  these  acts  of 
social  existence  were  done  as  mere  routine,  and  thus 
the  laxity  of  the  local  government  suited  admirably 
with  the  moral  and  intellectual  condition  of  the  gov- 
erned. The  events  of  the  following  history  will  show 
the  effects  of  this  state  of  things,  which  is  not  as 
unusual  in  the  provinces  as  might  be  supposed.  Man}' 
towns  in  France,  more  particularly  in  the  South,  are  like 
Issoudun.  The  condition  to  which  the  ascendency  of 
the  bourgeoisie  has  reduced  that  local  capital  is  one 
which  will  spread  over  all  France,  and  even  to  Paris,  if 
the  bourgeois  continues  to  rule  the  exterior  and  interior 
policy  of  our  county. 

Now,  one  word  of  topography.  Issoudun  stretches, 
north  and  south,  along  a  hillside  which  rounds  towards 
the  highroad  to  Chateauroux.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
a  canal,  now  called  the  ' '  Riviere  forcee  "  whose  waters 
are  taken  from  the  Theols,  was  constructed  in  former 
times,  when  the  town  was  flourishing,  for  the  use  of 
manufactories  or  to  flood  the  moats  of  the  rampart. 
The  "  Riyiere  forcee"  forms  an  artificial  arm  of  a 
natural  river,  the  Tournemine,  which  unites  with  several 
other  streams  beyond  the  suburb  of  Rome.  These  little 
threads  of  running  water  and  the  two  rivers  irrigate  a 
tract  of  wide-spreading  meadow-land,  enclosed  on  all 
sides  by  little  yellowish  or  white  terraces  dotted  with 
black  speckles  ;  for  such  is  the  aspect  of  the  vineyards 
of  Issoudun  during  seven  months  of  the  year.  The  vine- 
growers  cut  the  plants  down  yearly,  leaving  only  an 
ugly  stump,  without  support,  sheltered  by  a  barrel. 
The  traveller  arriving  from  Vierzon,  Vatan,  or  Chateau- 
roux, his  eyes  weary  with  monotonous  plains,  is  agree- 
ably surprised  by  the  meadows  of  Issoudun,  — the  oasis 


The  Two  Brothers.  133 

of  this  part  of  Berry,  which  supplies  the  inhabitants 
with  vegetables  throughout  a  region  of  thirty  miles  in 
circumference.  Below  the  suburb  of  Rome,  lies  a  vast 
tract  entirely  covered  writh  kitchen-gardens,  and  divided 
into  two  sections,  which  bear  the  name  of  upper  and 
lower  Baltan.  A  long  avenue  of  poplars  leads  from 
the  town  across  the  meadows  to  an  ancient  convent 
named  Frapesle,  whose  English  gardens,  quite  unique 
in  that  arrondisseraent,  have  received  the  ambitious 
name  of  Tivoli.  Loving  couples  whisper  their  vows  in 
its  alleys  of  a  Suncla}^. 

Traces  of  the  ancient  grandeur  of  Issoudun  of  course 
reveal  themselves  to  the  eyes  of  a  careful  observer ;  and 
the  most  suggestive  are  the  divisions  of  the  town.  The 
chateau,  formerly  almost  a  town  itself  with  its  walls  and 
moat,  is  a  distinct  quarter  which  can  only  be  entered, 
even  at  the  present  da}*,  through  its  ancient  gateways,  — 
by  means  of  three  bridges  thrown  across  the  arms  of  the 
two  rivers,  —  and  has  all  the  appearance  of  an  ancient 
city.  The  ramparts  show,  in  places,  the  formidable 
strata  of  their  foundations,  on  which  houses  have  now 
sprung  up.  Above  the  chateau,  is  the  famous  tower  of 
Issoudun,  once  the  citadel.  The  conqueror  of  the  city, 
which  laj'  around  these  two  fortified  points,  had  still 
to  gain  possession  of  the  tower  and  the  castle  ;  and  pos- 
session of  the  castle  did  not  insure  that  of  the  tower,  or 
citadel. 

The  suburb  of  Saint-Paterne,  which  lies  in  the  shape 
of  a  palette  beyond  the  tower,  encroaching  on  the  meadow- 
lands,  is  so  considerable  that  in  the  very  earliest  ages  it 
must  have  been  part  of  the  city  itself.  This  opinion 
derived,  in  1822,  a  sort  of  certainty  from  the  then 
existence   of  the   charming   church   of   Saint-Paterne. 


134  The  Two  Brothers. 

recently  pulled  down  by  the  heir  of  the  individual  who 
bought  it  of  the  nation.  This  church,  one  of  the  finest 
specimens  of  the  Romanesque  that  France  possessed, 
actually  perished  without  a  single  drawing  being  made 
of  the  portal,  which  was  in  perfect  preservation*  The 
only  voice  raised  to  save  this  monument  of  a  past  art 
found  no  echo,  either  in  the  town  itself  or  in  the  de- 
partment. Though  the  castle  of  Issoudun  has  the 
appearance  of  an  old  town,  with  its  narrow  streets  and 
its  ancient  mansions,  the  city  itself,  properly  so  called, 
which  was  captured  ai?d  burned  at  different  epochs, 
notably  during  the  Fronde,  when  it  was  laid  in  ashes, 
has  a  modern  air.  Streets  that  are  spacious  in  compar- 
ison with  those  of  other  towns,  and  well-built  houses 
form  a  striking  contrast  to  the  aspect  of  the  citadel,  —  a 
contrast  that  has  won  for  Issoudun,  in  certain  geogra- 
phies, the  epithet  of  "  pretty." 

In  a  town  thus  constituted,  without  the  least  activity, 
even  business  activity,  without  a  taste  for  art,  or  for 
learned  occupations,  and  where  everybody  stayed  in  the 
little  round  of  his  or  her  own  home,  it  wTas  likely  to 
happen,  and  did  happen  under  the  Restoration  in  1816 
when  the  war  was  over,  that  many  of  the  }oung  men  of 
the  place  had  no  career  before  them,  and  knew  not 
where  to  turn  for  occupation  until  they  could  marry  or 
inherit  the  property  of  their  fathers.  Bored  in  their 
own  homes,  these  young  fellows  found  little  or  no  dis- 
traction elsewhere  in  the  city ;  and  as,  in  the  language 
of  that  region,  "youth  must  shed  its  cuticle  "  they  sowed 
their  wild  oats  at  the  expense  of  the  town  itself.  It  was 
difficult  to  carry  on  such  operations  in  open  day,  lest  the 
perpetrators  should  be  recognized ;  for  the  cup  of  their 
misdemeanors  once  filled,  they  were  liable  to  be  arraigned 


The  Two  Brothers.  135 

at  their  next  peccadillo  before  the  police  courts ;  and 
they  therefore  judiciously  selected  the  night  time  for 
the  performance  of  their  mischievous  pranks.  Thus  it 
was  that  among  the  traces  of  divers  lost  civilizations, 
a  vestige  of  the  spirit  of  drolleiy  that  characterized  the 
manners  of  antiquity  burst  into  a  final  flame. 

The  young  men  amused  themselves  very  much  as 
Charles  IX.  amused  himself  with  his  courtiers,  or 
Henry  V.  of  England  and  his  companions,  or  as  in 
former  times  young  men  were  wont  to  amuse  them- 
selves in  the  provinces.  Having  once  banded  together 
for  purposes  of  mutual  help,  to  defend  each  other  and 
invent  amusing  tricks,  there  presently  developed  among 
them,  through  the  clash  of  ideas,  that  spirit  of  malicious 
mischief  which  belongs  to  the  period  of  youth  and  may 
even  be  observed  among  animals.  The  confederation, 
in  itself,  gave  them  the  mimic  delights  of  the  mystery  of 
an  organized  conspiracy.  They  called  themselves  the 
"Knights  of  Idleness."  During  the  day  these  young 
scamps  were  youthful  saints ;  they  all  pretended  to 
extreme  quietness  ;  and,  in  fact,  they  habitually  slept 
late  after  the  nights  on  which  they  had  been  playing 
their  malicious  pranks.  The  ''Knights"  began  with 
mere  commonplace  tricks,  such  as  unhooking  and  chang- 
ing signs,  ringing  bells,  flinging  casks  left  before  one 
house  into  the  cellar  of  the  next  with  a  crash,  rousing 
the  occupants  of  the  house  by  a  noise  that  seemed  to 
their  frightened  ears  like  the  explosion  of  a  mine.  In 
Issoudun,  as  in  many  country  towns,  the  cellar  is  en- 
tered by  an  opening  near  the  door  of  the  house,  covered 
\Vith  a  wooden  scuttle,  secured  by  strong  iron  hinges 
and  a  padlock. 

In  1816,  these  modern  Bad  Boys  had  not  altogether 


136  The  Two  Brothers. 

given  up  such  tricks  as  these,  perpetrated  in  the  prov- 
inces hy  all  young  lads  and  gamins.  But  in  1817  the 
Order  of  Idleness  acquired  a  Grand  Master,  and  distin- 
guished itself  by  mischief  which,  up  to  1823,  spread 
something  like  terror  in  Issoudun,  or  at  least  kept  the 
artisans  and  the  bourgeoisie  perpetually  uneasy. 

This  leader  was  a  certain  Maxence  Gilet,  commonly 
called  Max,  whose  antecedents,  no  less  than  his  youth 
and  his  vigor,  predestined  him  for  such  a  part.  Max- 
ence Gilet  was  supposed  by  all  Issoudun  to  be  the  nat- 
ural son  of  the  sub-delegate  Lousteau,  that  brother  of 
Madame  Hochon  whose  gallantries  had  left  memories 
behind  them,  and  who,  as  we  have  seen,  drew  down 
upon  himself  the  hatred  of  old  Doctor  Rouget  about 
the  time  of  Agathe's  birth.  But  the  friendship  which 
bound  the  two  men  together  before  their  quarrel  was 
so  close  that,  to  use  an  expression  of  that  region  and 
that  period,  "they  willingly  walked  the  same  road." 
Some  people  said  that  Maxence  was  as  likely  to  be  the 
son  of  the  doctor  as  of  the  sub-delegate ;  but  in  fact 
he  belonged  to  neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  —  his 
father  being  a  charming  dragoon  officer  in  garrison 
at  Bourges.  Nevertheless,  as  a  result  of  their  enmity, 
and  very  fortunately  for  the  child,  Rouget  and  Lousteau 
never  ceased  to  claim  his  paternity. 

Max's  mother,  the  wife  of  a  poor  sabot-maker  in 
the  Rome  suburb,  was  possessed,  for  the  perdition  of 
her  soul,  of  a  surprising  beaut}',  a  Trasteverine  beautj", 
the  only  property  which  she  transmitted  to  her  son. 
Madame  Gilet,  pregnant  with  Maxence  in  1788,  had 
long  desired  that  blessing,  which  the  town  attributed  to 
the  gallantries  of  the  two  friends,  —  probably  in  the 
hope  of  setting  them  against  each  other.     Gilet,  an  old 


The  Two  Brothers.  137 

drunkard  with  a  triple  throat,  treated  his  wife's  mis- 
conduct with  a  collusion  that  is  not  uncommon  among 
the  lower  classes.  To  make  sure  of  protectors  for  her 
son,  Madame  Gilet  was  careful  not  to  enlighten  his 
reputed  fathers  as  to  his  parentage.  In  Paris,  she 
would  have  turned  out  a  millionnaire ;  at  Issoudun  she 
lived  sometimes  at  her  ease,  more  often  miserably,  and, 
in  the  long  run,  despised.  Madame  Hochon,  Lous- 
teau's  sister,  paid  sixty  francs  a  year  for  the  lad's 
schooling.  This  liberality,  which  Madame  Hochon  was 
quite  unable  to  practise  on  her  own  account  because  of 
her  husband's  stinginess,  was  naturally  attributed  to  her 
brother,  then  living  at  Sancerre. 

When  Doctor  Rouget,  who  certainly  was  not  lucky 
in  sons,  observed  Max's  beauty,  he  paid  the  board  of  the 
4t}oung  rogue,"  as  he  called  him,  at  the  seminary,  up 
to  the  year  1805.  As  Lousteau  died  in  1800,  and  the 
doctor  apparently  obe3*ed  a  feeling  of  vanity  in  paying 
the  lad's  board  until  1805,  the  question  of  the  paternity 
was  left  forever  undecided.  Maxence  Gilet,  the  butt 
of  many  jests,  was  soon  forgotten,  —  and  for  this  reason  : 
In  1806,  a  year  after  Doctor  Rouget's  death,  the  lad, 
who  seemed  to  have  been  created  for  a  venturesome 
life,  and  was  moreover  gifted  with  remarkable  vigor 
and  agility,  got  into  a  series  of  scrapes  which  more  or 
less  threatened  his  safety.  He  plotted  with  the  grand- 
sons of  Monsieur  Hochon  to  worry  the  grocers  of  the 
city  ;  he  gathered  fruit  before  the  owners  could  pick  it, 
and  made  nothing  of  scaling  walls.  He  had  no  equal 
at  bodily  exercises,  he  played  base  to  perfection,  and 
could  have  outrun  a  hare.  With  a  keen  eye  worthy  of 
Leather-stocking,  he  loved  hunting  passionately.  His 
time  was  passed  in  firing  at  a  mark,  instead  of  stud3'- 


138  The  Two  Brothers. 

log ;  and  he  spent  the  money  extracted  from  the  old 
doctor  in  buying  powder  and  ball  for  a  wretched  pistol 
that  old  Gilet,  the  sabot-maker,  hatl  given  him.  Dur- 
ing the  autumn  of  1806,  Maxence,  then  seventeen, 
committed  an  involuntary  murder,  by  frightening  in  the 
dusk  a  young  woman  who  was  pregnant,  and  who  came 
upon  him  suddenly  while  stealing  fruit  in  her  garden. 
Threatened  with  the  guillotine  by  Gilet,  who  doubt- 
less wanted  to  get  rid  of  him,  Max  fled  to  Bourges,  met 
a  regiment  then  on  its  way  to  Egypt,  and  enlisted. 
Nothing  came  of  the  death  of  the  young  woman. 

A  young  fellow  of  Max's  character  was  sure  to  dis- 
tinguish himself,  and  in  the  course  of  three  campaigns 
he  did  distinguish  himself  so  highly  that  he  rose  to  be  a 
captain,  his  lack  of  education  helping  him  strenuously. 
In  Portugal,  in  1809,  he  was  left  for  dead  in  an  English 
battery,  into  which  his  compan}*  had  penetrated  without 
being  able  to  hold  it.  Max,  taken  prisoner  by  the 
English,  was  sent  to  the  Spanish  hulks  at  the  island  of 
Cabrera,  the  most  horrible  of  all  stations  for  prisoners 
of  war.  His  friends  begged  that  he  might  receive  the 
cross  of  the  Legion  of  honor  and  the  rank  of  major  ;  but 
the  Emperor  was  then  in  Austria,  and  he  reserved  his 
favors  for  those  who  did  brilliant  deeds  under  his  own 
eye  :  he  did  not  like  officers  or  men  who  allowed  them- 
selves to  be  taken  prisoner,  and  he  was,  moreover,  much 
dissatisfied  with  affairs  in  Portugal.  Max  was  held  at 
Cabrera  from    1810  to  1814.1     During  those  years  he 

1  The  cruelty  of  the  Spaniards  to  the  French  prisoners  at  Ca- 
brera was  very  great.  In  the  spring  of  1811,  II.  M.  brig  "Min- 
orca," Captain  Wormeley,  was  sent  by  Admiral  Sir  Charles 
Cotton,  then  commanding  the  Mediterranean  fleet,  to  make  a  re- 
port of  their  condition.     As  she  Beared  the  island,  the  wretched 


The  Two  Brothers.  189 

became  utterly  demoralized,  for  the  hulks  were  like  the 
galleys,  minus  crime  and  infancy.  At  the  outset,  to 
maintain  his  personal  free  will,  and  protect  himself 
against  the  corruption  which  made  that  horrible  prison 
unworthy  of  a  civilized  people,  the  handsome  young- 
captain  killed  in  a  duel  (for  duels  were  fought  on  those 
hulks  in  a  space  scarcely  six  feet  square)  seven  bullies 
among  his  fellow-prisoners,  thus  ridding  the  islanH  of 
their  tyranny  to  the  great  joy  of  the  other  victims. 
After  this,  Max  reigned  supreme  on  his  hulk,  thanks  to 
the  wonderful  ease  and  address  with  which  he  handled 
weapons,  to  his  bodily  strength,  and  also  to  his  extreme 
cleverness. 

But  he,  in  turn,  committed  arbitrary  acts  ;  there  were 
those  who  curried  favor  with  him,  and  worked  his  will, 
and  became  his  minions.  In  that  school  of  misery, 
where  bitter  minds  dreamed  only  of  vengeance,  where 
the  sophistries  hatched  in  such  brains  were  laying  up, 
inevitably,  a  store  of  evil  thoughts,  Max  became  utterly 
demoralized.  He  listened  to  the  opinions  of  those  who 
longed  for  fortune  at  any  price,  and  did  not  shrink  from 
the  results  of  criminal  actions,  provided  the\T  were  done 
without  discovery.  When  peace  was  proclaimed,  in  April, 

prisoners  swam  out  to  meet  her.  They  were  reduced  to  skin  and 
bone ;  many  of  them  were  naked  ;  and  their  miserable  condition 
so  moved  the  seamen  of  the  "  Minorca"  that  they  came  aft  to  the 
quarter-deck,  and  asked  permission  to  subscribe  three  days'  ra- 
tions for  the  relief  of  the  sufferers.  Captain  Wormeley  carried 
away  some  of  the  prisoners;  and  his  report  to  Sir  Charles  Cotton, 
being  sent  to  the  Admiralty,  was  made  the  basis  of  a  remonstrance 
on  the  part  of  the  British  government  with  Spain  on  the  subject  of 
its  cruelties.  Sir  Charles  Cotton  despatched  Captain  Wormeley  a 
second  time  to  Cabrera  with  a  good  many  head  of  live  cattle,  and 
a  large  supply  of  other  provisions.  —  Tr. 


140  The  Two  Brothers. 

1814,  he  left  the  island,  depraved  though  still  innocent. 
On  his  return  to  Issoudun  he  found  his  father  and 
mother  dead.  Like  others  who  give  way  to  their 
passions  and  make  life,  as  they  call  it,  short  and  sweet, 
the  Gilets  had  died  in  the  almshouse  in  the  utmost  pov- 
erty. Immediately  after  his  return,  the  news  of  Napo- 
leon's landing  at  Cannes  spread  through  France  ;  Max 
could  do  no  better  than  go  to  Paris  and  ask  for  his  rank 
as  major  and  for  his  cross.  The  marshal  who  was  at 
that  time  minister  of  war  remembered  the  brave  con- 
duct of  Captain  Gilet  in  Portugal.  He  put  him  in  the 
Guard  as  captain,  which  gave  him  the  grade  of  major 
in  the  infantry  ;  but  he  could  not  get  him  the  cross. 
4 'The  Emperor  says  that  you  will  know  how  to  win  it 
at  the  first  chance,"  said  the  marshal.  In  fact,  the 
Emperor  did  put  the  brave  captain  on  his  list  for  deco- 
ration the  evening  after  the  fight  at  Fleurus,  where 
Gilet  distinguished  himself. 

After  the  battle  of  Waterloo  Max  retreated  to  the 
Loire.  At  the  time  of  the  disbandment,  Marshal  Feltre 
refused  to  recognize  Max's  grade  as  major,  or  his  claim 
to  the  cross.  The  soldier  of  Napoleon  returned  to  Is- 
soudun in  a  state  of  exasperation  that  ma}'  well  be  con- 
ceived ;  he  declared  he  would  not  serve  without  either 
rank  or  cross.  The  war-office  considered  these  condi- 
tions presumptuous  in  a  young  man  of  twenty-five  with- 
out a  name,  who  might,  if  they  were  granted,  become  a 
colonel  at  thirty.  Max  accordingly  sent  in  his  resigna- 
tion. The  major — for  among  themselves  Bonapartists 
recognized  the  grades  obtained  in  1815  —  thus  lost  the 
pittance  called  half-pay  which  was  allowed  to  the  offi- 
cers of  the  army  of  the  Loire.  But  all  Issoudun  was 
roused  at  the  sight  of  the  brave  young  fellow  left  with 


The  Two  Brothers.  141 

only  twenty  napoleons  in  his  possession  ;  and  the  mayor 
gave  him  a  place  in  his  office  with  a  salary  of  six  hun- 
dred francs.  Max  kept  it  a  few  months,  then  gave  it 
up  of  his  own  accord,  and  was  replaced  hy  a  captain 
named  Carpentier,  who,  like  himself,  had  remained 
faithful  to  Napoleon. 

By  this  time  Gilet  had  become  grand  master  of  the 
Knights  of  Idleness,  and  was  leading  a  life  which  lost 
him  the  good- will  of  the  chief  people  of  the  town  ;  who, 
however,  did  not  openly  make  the  fact  known  to  him, 
for  he  was  violent  and  much  feared  by  all,  even  by  the 
officers  of  the  old  army  who,  like  himself,  had  refused  to 
serve  under  the  Bourbons,  and  had  come  home  to  plant 
their  cabbages  in  Berry.  The  little  affection  felt  for 
the  Bourbons  among  the  natives  of  Issoudun  is  not  sur- 
prising when  we  recall  the  history  which  we  have  just 
given.  In  fact,  considering  its  size  and  lack  of  impor- 
tance, the  little  place  contained  more  Bonapartists  than 
an\T  other  town  in  France.  These  men  became,  as  is 
well  known,  nearly  all  Liberals. 

In  Issoudun  and  its  neighborhood  there  were  a  dozen 
officers  in  Max's  position.  These  men  admired  him 
and  made  him  their  leader,  —  with  the  exception,  how- 
ever, of  Carpentier,  his  successor,  and  a  certain  Mon- 
sieur Mignonnet,  ex-captain  in  the  artillery  of  the 
Guard.  Carpentier,  a  cavalry  officer  risen  from  the 
ranks,  had  married  into  one  of  the  best  families  in 
the  town, — the  Borniche-Herau.  Mignonnet,  brought 
up  at  the  Ecole  Polytechnique,  had  served  in  a  corps 
which  held  itself  superior  to  all  others.  In  the  Imperial 
armies  there  were  two  shades  of  distinction  among  the 
soldiers  themselves.  A  majority  of  them  felt  a  con- 
tempt for  the  bourgeois,  the  ''civilian,"  fully  equal  to 


142  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  contempt  of  nobles  for  their  serfs,  or  conquerors  for 
the  conquered.  Such  men  did  not  always  observe  the 
laws  of  honor  in  their  dealings  with  civilians ;  nor  did 
they  much  blame  those  who  rode  rough-shod  over  the 
bourgeoisie.  The  others,  and  particularly  the  artillery, 
perhaps  because  of  its  republicanism,  never  adopted  the 
doctrine  of  a  militaiy  France  and  a  civil  France,  the 
tendency  of  which  was  nothing  less  than  to  make  two 
nations.  So,  although  Major  Potel  and  Captain  Renard, 
two  officers  living  in  the  Rome  suburb,  were  friends 
to  Maxence  Gilet  "through  thick  and  thin,"  Major 
Mignonnet  and  Captain  Carpentier  took  sides  with 
the  bourgeoisie,  and  thought  his  conduct  unworthy  of 
a  man  of  honor. 

Major  Mignonnet,  a  lean  little  man,  full  of  dignit}', 
busied  himself  with  the  problems  which  the  steam-engine 
requires  us  to  solve,  and  lived  in  a  modest  way,  taking 
his  social  intercourse  with  Monsieur  and  Madame  Car- 
pentier. His  gentle  manners  and  ways,  and  his  scien- 
tific occupations  won  him  the  respect  of  the  whole  town  ; 
and  it  was  frequently  said  of  him  and  of  Captain  Car- 
pentier that  they  were  ''quite  another  thing"  from  Ma- 
jor Potel  and  Captain  Renard,  Maxence,  and  other 
frequenters  of  the  cafe  Militaire,  who  retained  the 
soldierly  manners  and  the  defective  morals  of  the 
Empire. 

At  the  time  when  Madame  Bridau  returned  to  Issou- 
dun,  Max  was  excluded  from  the  society  of  the  place. 
He  showed,  moreover,  proper  self-respect  in- never  pre- 
senting himself  at  the  clubhand  in  never  complaining  of 
the  severe  reprobation  that  was  shown  him  ;  although 
he  was  the  handsomest,  the  most  elegant,  an$  the  best 
dressed  man  in  the  place,  spent  a  great  deal  of  money, 


The  Two  Brothers.  143 

and  kept  a  horse,  —  a  thing  as  amazing  at  Tssouclun  as 
the  horse  of  Lord  Byron  at  Venice.  We  are  now  to  see 
how  it  was  that  Maxenee,  poor  and  without  apparent 
means,  was  able  to  become  the  dandy  of  the  town.  The 
shameful  conduct  which  earned  him  the  contempt  of 
all  scrupulous  or  religious  persons  was  connected  with 
the  interests  which  brought  Agathe  and  Joseph  to 
Issoudun. 

Judging  by  the  audacity  of  his  bearing,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face,  Max  cared  little  for  public  opinion  ; 
he  expected,  no  doubt,  to  take  his  revenge  some  day, 
and  to  lord  it  over  those  who  now  condemned  him. 
Moreover,  if  the  bourgeoisie  of  Issoudun  thought  ill 
of  him,  the  admiration  he  excited  among  the  common 
people  counterbalanced  their  opinion  ;  his  courage,  his 
dashing  appearance,  his  decision  of  character,  could  not 
fail  to  please  the  masses,  to  whom  his  degradation  was, 
for  the  most  part,  unknown,  and  indeed  the  bourgeoisie 
themselves  scarcely  suspected  its  extent.  Max  played 
a  role  at  Issoudun  which  was  something  like  that  of 
the  blacksmith  in  the  u  Fair  Maid  of  Perth  ;  "  he  was  the 
champion  of  Bonapartism  and  the  Opposition  ;  they 
counted  upon  him  as  the  burghers  of  Perth  counted 
upon  Smith  on  great  occasions.  A  single  incident  will 
put  this  hero  and  victim  of  the  Hunclred-Dajs  into  clear 
relief. 

In  1819,  a  battalion  commanded  by  royalist  officers, 
young  men  just  out  of  the  Maison-Rouge,  passed 
through  Issoudum  on  its  way  to  go  into  garrison  at 
Bourges.  Not  knowing  what  to  do  with  themselves  in 
so  constitutional  a  place  as  Issoudun,  these  young  gen- 
tlemen went  to  while  away  the  time  at  the  cafe  Militaire. 
In  every  provincial  town  there  is  a  military  cafe.     That 


144  The  Two  Brothers. 

of  Issoudun,  built  on  the  place  d'Armes  at  an  angle  of 
the  rampart,  and  kept  t>3T  the  widow  of  an  officer,  was 
naturally  the  rendezvous  of  Bonapartists,  chiefly  officers 
on  half-pay,  and  others  who  shared  Max's  opinions,  to 
whom  the  politics  of  the  town  allowed  free  expression 
of  their  idolatry  for  the  Emperor.  Every  year,  dating 
from  1816,  a  banquet  was  given  in  Issoudun  to  com- 
memorate the  anniversary  of  his  coronation.  The  three 
royalists  who  first  entered  asked  for  the  newspapers, 
among  others,  for  the  "  Quotidienne  "  and  the  "Dra- 
peau  Blanc."  The  politics  of  Issoudun,  especially  those 
of  the  cafe  Militaire,  did  not  allow  of  such  royalist  jour- 
nals. The  establishment  had  none  but  the  "Com- 
merce,"—  a  name  which  the  "  Constitutionel "  was 
compelled  to  adopt  for  several  3'ears  after  it  was  sup- 
pressed by  the  government.  But  as,  in  its  first  issue 
under  the  new  name,  the  leading  article  began  with 
these  words,  "  Commerce  is  essentially  constitutional," 
people  continued  to  call  it  the  "Constitutionel,"  the 
subscribers  all  understanding  the  sly  play  of  words 
which  begged  them  to  pay  no  attention  to  the  label,  %s 
the  wine  would  be  the  same. 

The  fat  landlady  replied  from  her  seat  at  the  desk 
that  she  did  not  take  those  papers.  "  What  papers  do 
you  take  then?"  said  one  of  the  officers,  a  captain. 
The  waiter,  a  little  fellow  in  a  blue  cloth  jacket,  with 
an  apron  of  coarse  linen  tied  over  it,  brought  the 
"  Commerce." 

"  Is  that  your  paper?     Have  3*011  no  other?  " 
"  No,"  said  the  waiter,  "  that 's  the  only  one." 
The  captain  tore  it  up,  flung  the  pieces  on  the  floor, 
and  spat  upon  them,  calling  out,  — 
"  Bring  dominos  !  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  145 

In  ten  minutes  the  news  of  the  insult  offered  to  the 
Constitutional  Opposition  and  the  Liberal  party,  in 
the  supersacred  person  of  its  revered  journal,  which 
attacked  priests  with  the  courage  and  the  wit  we  all 
remember,  spread  throughout  the  town  and  into  the 
houses  like  light  itself;  it  was  told  and  repeated  from 
place  to  place.     One  phrase  was  on  everybody's  lips,  — 

4 'Let  us  tell  Max!" 

Max  soon  heard  of  it.  The  royalist  officers  were 
still  at  their  game  of  dominos  when  that  hero  entered 
the  cafe,  accompanied  by  Major  Potel  and  Captain 
Renard,  and  followed  by  at  least  thirty  young  men, 
curious  to  see  the  end  of  the  affair,  most  of  whom  re- 
mained outside  in  the  street.     The  room  was  soon  full. 

44  Waiter,  my  newspaper,"  said  Max,  in  a  quiet  voice. 

Then  a  little  comedy  was  played.  The  fat  hostess, 
with  a  timid  and  conciliatory  air,  said,  "  Captain,  I 
have  lent  it !  " 

44  Send  for  it,"  cried  one  of  Max's  friends. 

41  Can't  you  do  without  it?"  said  the  waiter;  "we 
have  not  got  it." 

The  young  royalists  were  laughing  and  casting  side- 
long glances  at  the  new-comers. 

14  The}-  have  torn  it  up  !  "  cried  a  youth  of  the  town, 
looking  at  the  feet  of  the  young  royalist  captain. 

44  Who  has  dared  to  destroy  that  paper?  "  demanded 
Max,  in  a  thundering  voice,  his  eyes  flashing  as  he  rose 
with  his  arms  crossed. 

44  And  we  spat  upon  it,"  replied  the  three  young  offi- 
cers, also  rising,  and  looking  at  Max. 

44  You  have  insulted  the  whole  town!"  said  Max, 
turning  livid. 

44  Well,  what  of  that?  "  asked  the  youngest  officer. 
10 


146  .        The  Two  Brothers. 

With  a  dexterity,  quickness,  and  audacity  which  the 
young  men  did  not  foresee,  Max  slapped  the  face  of  the 
officer  nearest  to  him,  saying,  — 

"  Do  you  understand  French?" 

They  fought  near  by,  in  the  allee  de  Frapesle,  three 
against  three ;  for  Potel  and  Renard  would  not  allow 
Max  to  deal  with  the  officers  alone.  Max  killed  his 
man.  Major  Potel  wounded  his  so  severely,  that  the 
unfortunate  3'oung  man,  the  son  of  a  good  family,  died 
in  the  hospital  the  next  da}'.  As  for  the  third,  he  got 
off  with  a  sword  cut,  after  wounding  his  adversary, 
Captain  Renard.  The  battalion  left  for  Bourges  that 
night.  This  affair,  which  was  noised  throughout  Berry, 
set  Max  up  definitely  as  a  hero. 

The  Knights  of  Idleness,  who  were  all  }T>ung,  the  eld- 
est not  more  than  twent3'-five  years  old,  admired  Max- 
ence.  Some  among  them,  far  from  sharing  the  prudery 
and  the  strict  notions  of  their  families  concerning  his  con- 
duct, envied  his  present  position  and  thought  him  fortu- 
nate. Under  such  a  leader,  the  Order  did  great  things. 
After  the  month  of  Ma}',  1817,  never  a  week  passed  that 
the  town  was  not  thrown  into  an  uproar  by  some  new  piece 
of  mischief.  Max,  as  a  matter  of  honor,  imposed  certain 
conditions  upon  the  Knights.  Statutes  were  drawn  up. 
These  young  demons  grew  as  vigilant  as  the  pupils  of 
Amoros,  —  bold  as  hawks,  agile  at  all  exercises,  clever 
and  strong  as  criminals.  They  trained  themselves  in 
climbing  roofs,  scaling  houses,  jumping  and  walking 
noiselessly,  mixing  mortar,  and  walling  up  doors.  They 
collected  an  arsenal  of  ropes,  ladders,  tools,  and  dis- 
guises. After  a  time  the  Knights  of  Idleness  attained 
to  the  beau-ideal  of  malicious  mischief,  not  only  as 
to  the  accomplishment  but,  still  more,  in  the  invention 


The  Two  Brothers.  147 

of  their  pranks.  They  came  at  last  to  possess  the  gen- 
ius for  evil  that  Panurge  so  much  delighted  in  ;  which 
provokes  laughter,  and  covers  its  victims  with  such 
ridicule  that  the}'  dare  not  complain.  Naturally,  these 
sons  of  the  good  families  of  Issoudun  possessed  and 
obtained  information  in  their  households,  which  gave 
them  the  ways  and  means  for  the  perpetration  of  their 
outrages. 

Sometimes  the  young  devils  incarnate  lay  in  ambush 
along  the  Grand'rue  or  the  Basse  rue,  two  streets  which 
are,  as  it  were,  the  arteries  of  the  town,  into  which 
man}'  little  side  streets  open.  Crouching,  with  their 
heads  to  the  wind,  in  the  angles  of  the  wall  and  at  the 
corners  of  the  streets,  at  the  hour  when  all  the  house- 
holds were  hushed  in  their  first  sleep,  they  called  to 
each  other  in  tones  of  terror  from  ambush  to  ambush 
along  the  whole  length  of  the  town  :  k'  What 's  the  mat- 
ter?" c;  What  is  it?"'  till  the  repeated  cries  woke  up 
the  citizens,  wrho  appeared  in  their  shirts  and  cotton 
night-caps,  with  lights  in  their  hands,  asking  questions 
of  one  another,  holding  the  strangest  colloquies,  and 
exhibiting  the  queerest  faces. 

A  certain  poor  bookbinder,  who  was  very  old,  be- 
lieved in  hobgoblins.  Like  most  provincial  artisans,  he 
worked  in  a  small  basement  shop.  The  Knights,  dis- 
guised as  devils,  invaded  the  place  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  put  him  into  his  own  cutting-press,  and  left 
him  shrieking  to  himself  like  the  souls  in  hell.  The 
poor  man  roused  the  neighbors,  to  whom  he  related  the 
apparitions  of  Lucifer  ;  and  as  they  had  no  means  of  un- 
deceiving him,  he  was  driven  nearly  insane. 

In  the  middle  of  a  severe  winter,  the  Knights  took 
down  the  chimney  of  the  collector  of  taxes,  and  built  it 


148  The  Two  Brothers. 

up  again  in  one  night  apparently  as  it  was  before,  with- 
out making  the  slightest  noise,  or  leaving  the  least 
trace  of  their  work.  But  the)'  so  arranged  the  inside 
of  the  chimney  as  to  send  all  the  smoke  into  the  house. 
The  collector  suffered  for  two  months  before  he  found 
out  why  his  chimney,  which  had  alwa}s  drawn  so  well, 
and  of  which  he  had  often  boasted,  played  him  such 
tricks ;  he  was  then  obliged  to  build  a  new  one. 

At  another  time,  they  put  three  trusses  of  hay  dusted 
with  brimstone,  and  a  quantity  of  oiled  paper  down  the 
chimney  of  a  pious  old  woman  who  was  a  friend  of 
Madame  Hochon.  In  the  morning,  when  she  came  to 
light  her  fire,  the  poor  creature,  who  was  very  gentle 
and  kindly,  imagined  she  had  started  a  volcano.  The 
fire-engines  came,  the  whole  population  rushed  to  her 
assistance.  Several  Knights  were  among  the  firemen, 
and  they  deluged  the  old  woman's  house,  till  they  bad 
frightened  her  with  a  flood,  as  much  as  the}'  had  terri- 
fied her  with  the  fire.     She  was  made  ill  with  fear. 

When  they  wished  to  make  some  one  spend  the 
night  under  arms  and  in  mortal  terror,  they  wrote  an 
anon}'mous  letter  warning  him  that  he  was  about  to 
be  robbed ;  then  they  stole  softljT,  one  by  one,  round 
the  walls  of  his  house,  or  under  his  windows,  whistling 
as  if  to  call  each  other. 

One  of  their  famous  performances,  which  long  amused 
the  town,  where  in  fact  it  is  still  related,  wras  to  write 
a  letter  to  all  the  heirs  of  a  miserty  old  lady  who  was 
likely  to  leave  a  large  property,  announcing  her  death, 
and  requesting  them  to  be  promptly  on  hand  when  the 
seals  were  affixed.  Eight}'  persons  arrived  from  Vatan, 
Saint-Florent,  Vierzon  and  the  neighboring  country, 
all  in  deep  mourning,  —  widows  with  sons,  children  with 


The  Two  Brothers.  149 

their  fathers ;  some  in  carrioles,  some  in  wicker  gigs, 
others  in  dilapidated  carts.  Imagine  the  scene  between 
the  old  woman's  servant  and  the  first  arrivals  !  and  the 
consultations  among  the  notaries  !  It  created  a  sort  of 
riot  in  Issoudun. 

At  last,  one  day  the  sub-prefect  woke  up  to  a  sense 
that  this  state  of  things  was  all  the  more  intolerable  be- 
cause it  seemed  impossible  to  find  out  who  was  at  the 
bottom  of  it.  Suspicion  fell  on  several  }'oung  men  ; 
but  as  the  National  Guard  was  a  mere  name  in  Issou- 
dun, and  there  was  no  garrison,  and  the  lieutenant 
of  police  had  only  eight  gendarmes  under  him,  so  that 
there  were  no  patrols,  it  was  impossible  to  get  any 
proof  against  them.  The  sub-prefect  was  immediately 
posted  in  the  "  order  of  the  night,"  and  considered 
thenceforth  fair  game.  This  functionary  made  a  prac- 
tice of  breakfasting  on  two  fresh  eggs.  He  kept  chick- 
ens in  his  yard,  and  added  to  his  mania  for  eating  fresh 
eggs  that  of  boiling  them  himself.  Neither  his  wife 
nor  his  servant,  in  fact  no  one,  according  to  him,  knew 
how  to  boil  an  egg  properly  ;  he  did  it  watch  in  hand, 
and  boasted  that  he  carried  off'  the  palm  of  egg-boiling 
from  all  the  world.  For  two  }ears  he  had  boiled  his 
eggs  with  a  success  which  earned  him  many  witticisims. 
But  now,  every  night  for  a  whole  month,  the  eggs  were 
taken  from  his  hen-house,  and  hard-boiled  eggs  substi- 
tuted. The  sub-prefect  was  at  his  wits'  end,  and  lost 
his  reputation  as  the  sous-prefet  a  Vceuf.  Finalty  he 
was  forced  to  breakfast  on  other  things.  Yet  he  never 
suspected  the  Knights  of  Idleness,  whose  trick  had 
been  cautiously  played.  After  this,  Max  managed  to 
grease  the  sub-prefect's  stoves  every  night  with  an  oil 
which  sent  forth  so  fetid  a  smell  that  it  was  impossible 


150  The  Two  Brothers. 

for  any  one  to  sta}T  in  the  house.  Even  that  was  not 
enough  ;  his  wife,  going  to  mass  one  morning,  found  her 
shawl  glued  together  on  the  inside  with  some  tenacious 
substance,  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  go  without  it. 
The  sub-prefect  finally  asked  for  another  appointment. 
The  cowardly  submissiveness  of  this  officer  had  much  to 
do  with  firmly  establishing  the  weird  and  comic  author- 
ity of  the  Knights  of  Idleness. 

Beyond  the  rue  des  Minimes  and  the  place  Misere,  a 
section  of  a  quarter  was  at  that  time  enclosed  between 
an  arm  of  the  M  Riviere*  forcee  "  on  the  lower  side  and 
the  ramparts  on  the  other,  beginning  at  the  place 
d' Amies  and  going  as  far  as  the  pottery  market. 
This  irregular  square  is  filled  with  poor-looking  houses 
crowded  one  against  the  other,  and  divided  here  and 
there  by  streets  so  narrow  that  two  persons  cannot 
walk  abreast.  This  section  of  the  town,  a  sort  of  cour 
des  Miracles,  was  occupied  by  poor  people  or  persons 
working  at  trades  that  were  little  remunerative.  —  a 
population  living  in  hovels,  and  buildings  called  pictu- 
resquely by  the  familiar  term  of  "  blind  houses."  From 
the  earliest  ages  this  has  no  doubt  been  an  accursed 
quarter,  the  haunt  of  evil-doers  ;  in  fact  one  thoroughfare 
is  named  '*  the  street  of  the  Executioner."  For  more 
than  five  centuries  it  has  been  customary  for  the  exe- 
cutioner to  have  a  red  door  at  the  entrance  of  his  house. 
The  assistant  of  the  executioner  of  Chateauroux  still 
lives  there,  — if  we  are  to  believe  public  rumor,  for  the 
townspeople  never  see  him :  the  vine-dressers  alone 
maintain  an  intercourse  with  this  mysterious  being,  who 
inherits  from  his  predecessors  the  gift  of  curing  wounds 
and  fractures.  In  the  days  when  Issoudun  assumed 
the  airs  of  a  capital  city  the  women  of  the  town  made 


The  Two  Brothers.  151 

this  section  of  it  the  scene  of  their  wanderings.  Here 
came  the  second-hand  sellers  of  things  that  look  as  if 
the}'  never  could  find  a  purchaser,  old-clothes  dealers 
whose  wares  infected  the  air;  in  short,  it  was  the  ren- 
dezvous of  that  apocryphal  population  which  is  to  be 
found  in  nearly  all  such  purlieus  of  a  city,  where  two 
or  three  Jews  have  gained  an  ascendene}'. 

At  the  corner  of  one  of  these  gloomy  streets  in  the 
livelier  half  of  the  quarter,  there  existed  from  1815  to 
1823,  and  perhaps  later,  a  public-house  kept  by  a 
woman  commonly  called  Mere  Cognette.  The  house 
itself  was  tolerably  well  built,  in  courses  of  white  stone, 
with  the  intermediary  spaces  filled  in  with  ashlar  and 
cement,  one  store}'  high  with  an  attic  above.  Over  the 
door  was  an  enormous  branch  of  pine,  looking  as  though 
it  were  cast  in  Florentine  bronze.  As  if  this  symbol 
were  not  explanatory  enough,  the  eye  was  arrested  by 
the  blue  of  a  poster  which  was  pasted  over  the  doorway, 
and  on  which  appeared,  above  the  words  "  Good  Beer 
of  Mars,"  the  picture  of  a  soldier  pouring  out,  in  the 
direction  of  a  very  decolletee  woman,  a  jet  of  foam 
which  spurted  in  an  arched  line  from  the  pitcher  to  the 
glass  which  she  was  holding  towards  him  ;  the  whole 
of  a  color  to  make  Delacroix  swoon. 

The  ground-floor  was  occupied  by  an  immense  hall 
serving  both  as  kitchen  and  dining-room,  from  the  beams 
of  which  hung,  suspended  by  huge  nails,  the  provisions 
needed  for  the  custom  of  such  a  house.  Behind  this  hall 
a  winding  staircase  led  to  the  upper  storey  ;  at  the  foot 
of  the  staircase  a  door  led  into  a  low,  long  room  lighted 
from  one  of  those  little  provincial  courts,  so  narrow, 
dark,  and  sunken  between  tall  houses,  as  to  seem  like 
the  flue  of  a  chimney.     Hidden   by  a  shed,   and  con- 


152  The  Two  Brothers. 

cealed  from  all  eyes  by  walls,  this  low  room  was  the 
place  where  the  Bad  B03-S  of  Issoudun  held  their  plen- 
ary court.  Ostensibly,  Pere  Cognet  boarded  and  lodged 
the  country-people  on  market-days ;  secretly,  he  was 
landlord  to  the  Knights  of  Idleness.  This  man,  who 
was  formerly  groom  in  a  rich  household,  had  ended  by 
marrying  La  Cognette,  a  cook  in  a  good  family.  The 
suburb  of  Rome  still  continues,  like  Italy  and  Poland, 
to  follow  the  Latin  custom  of  putting  a  feminine  termi- 
nation to  the  husband's  name  and  giving  it  to  the 
wife. 

By  uniting  their  savings  Pere  Cognet  and  his  spouse 
had  managed  to  buy  their  present  house.  La  Cognette, 
a  woman  of  forty,  tall  and  plump,  with  the  nose  of  a 
Roxelane,  a  swarthy  skin,  jet-black  hair,  brown  eyes 
that  were  round  and  lively,  and  a  general  air  of  mirth 
and  intelligence,  was  selected  b}-  Maxence  Gilet,  on 
account  of  her  character  and  her  talent  for  cookery,  as 
the  Leonarde  of  the  Order.  Pere  Cognet  might  be 
about  fifty-six  years  old ;  he  was  thick-set,  very  much 
under  his  wife's  rule,  and,  according  to  a  witticism 
which  she  was  fond  of  repeating,  he  only  saw  things 
with  a  good  e}e  —  for  he  was  blind  of  the  other.  In 
the  course  of  seven  years,  that  is,  from  1816  to  1823, 
neither  wife  nor  husband  had  betrayed  in  the  smallest 
particular  what  went  on  nightly  at  their  house,  or  who 
they  were  that  shared  in  the  plot ;  thej-  felt  the  live- 
liest regard  for  all  the  Knights ;  their  devotion  was 
absolute.  But  this  may  seem  less  creditable  if  we 
remember  that  self-interest  was  the  security  of  their 
affection  and  their  silence.  No  matter  at  what  hour  of 
the  night  the  Knights  dropped  in  upon  the  tavern,  the 
moment  they  knocked  in  a  certain  way  Pere  Cognet, 


The  Two  Brothers.  153 

recognizing  the  signal,  got  up,  lit  the  fire  and  the  can- 
dles, opened  the  door,  and  went  to  the  cellar  for  a  par- 
ticular wine  that  was  laid  in  expressly  for  the  Order ; 
while  La  Cognette  cooked  an  excellent  supper,  eaten 
either  before  or  after  the  expeditions,  which  were 
usually  planned  the  previous  evening  or  in  the  course 
of  the  preceding  day. 


154  The  Two  Brothers. 


VIII. 

While  Joseph  and  Madame  Bridau  were  journeying 
from  Orleans  to  Issoudun,  the  Knights  of  Idleness 
perpetrated  one  of  their  best  tricks.  An  old  Spaniard, 
a  former  prisoner  of  war,  who  after  the  peace  had 
remained  in  the  neighborhood,  where  he  did  a  small 
business  in  grain,  came  early  one  morning  to  market, 
leaving  his  empty  cart  at  the  foot  of  the  tower  of 
Issoudun.  Maxence,  who  arrived  at  a  rendezvous  of 
the  Knights,  appointed  on  that  occasion  at  the  foot 
of  the  tower,  was  soon  assailed  with  the  whispered 
question,  "What  are  we  to  do  to-night?" 

"Here's  Pere  Fario's  cart,"  he  answered.  "I 
nearly  cracked  my  shins  over  it.  Let  us  get  it  up  on 
the  embankment  of  the  tower  in  the  first  place,  and 
we  '11  make  up  our  minds  afterwards." 

When  Richard  Cceur-de-Lion  built  the  tower  of 
Issoudun  he  raised  it,  as  we  have  said,  on  the  ruins 
of  the  basilica,  which  itself  stood  above  the  Roman 
temple  and  the  Celtic  Dun.  These  ruins,  each  of 
which  represents  a  period  of  several  centuries,  form  a 
mound  big  with  the  monuments  of  three  distinct  ages. 
The  tower  is,  therefore,  the  apex  of  a  cone,  from  which 
the  descent  is  equalty  steep  on  all  sides,  and  which  is 
only  approached  by  a  series  of  steps.  To  give  in  a 
few  words  an  idea  of  the  height  of  this  tower,  we  may 
compare  it  to  the  obelisk  of  Luxor  on  its  pedestal. 
The   pedestal   of  the   tower  of  Issoudun,    which   hid 


The  Two  Brothers.  155 

within  its  breast  such  archaeological  treasures,  was 
eighty  feet  high  on  the  side  towards  the  town.  In  an 
hour  the  cart  was  taken  off  its  wheels  and  hoisted, 
piece  by  piece,  to  the  top  of  the  embankment  at  the 
foot  of  the  tower  itself,  —  a  work  that  was  somewhat 
like  that  of  the  soldiers  who  carried  the  artillery  over 
the  pass  of  the  Grand  Saint-Bernard.  The  cart  was 
then  remounted  on  its  wheels,  and  the  Knights, 
by  this  time  hungry  and  thirsty,  returned  to  Mere 
Cognette's,  where  the}'  were  soon  seated  round  the 
table  in  the  low  room,  laughing  at  the  grimaces  Fario 
would  make  when  he  came  after  his  barrow  in  the 
morning. 

The  Knights,  naturally,  did  not  pla}r  such  capers 
eveiy  night.  The  genius  of  Sganarelle,  Mascarille, 
and  Scapin  combined  would  not  have  sufficed  to  invent 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  pieces  of  mischief  a  3'ear. 
In  the  first  place,  circumstances  were  not  always  pro- 
pitious :  sometimes  the  moon  shone  clear,  or  the  last 
prank  had  greatly  irritated  their  betters ;  then  one  or 
another  of  their  number  refused  to  share  in  some  pro- 
posed outrage  because  a  relation  was  involved.  But  if 
the  scamps  were  not  at  Mere  Cognette's  every  night, 
they  always  met  during  the  day,  enjoying  together  the 
legitimate  pleasures  of  hunting,  or  the  autumn  vin- 
tages and  the  winter  skating.  Among  this  assemblage 
of  twenty  youths,  all  of  them  at  war  with  the  social 
somnolence  of  the  place,  there  were  some  who  were 
more  closely  allied  than  others  to  Max,  and  who  made 
him  their  idol.  A  character  like  his  often  fascinates 
other  youths.  The  two  grandsons  of  Madame  Hochon 
—  Francois  Hochon  and  Baruch  Borniche  —  were  his 
henchmen.     These  3'oung   fellows,  accepting  the  gen- 


156  The  Two  Brothers. 

eral  opinion  of  the  left-handed  parentage  of  Lonsteau, 
looked  upon  Max  as  their  cousin.  Max,  moreover, 
was  liberal  in  lending  them  mone}'  for  their  pleasures, 
which  their  grandfather  Hochon  refused  ;  he  took  them 
hunting,  let  them  see  life,  and  exercised  a  much  greater 
influence  over  them  than  their  own  family.  Thej'  were 
both  orphans,  and  were  kept,  although  each  had  at- 
tained his  majority,  under  the  guardianship  of  Monsieur 
Hochon,  for  reasons  which  will  be  explained  when  Mon- 
sieur Hochon  himself  comes  upon  the  scene. 

At  this  particular  moment  Francois  and  Baruch  (we 
will  call  them  by  their  Christian  names  for  the  sake  of 
clearness)  were  sitting,  one  on  each  side  of  Max,  at 
the  middle  of  a  table  that  was  rather  ill  lighted  b}'  the 
fuliginous  gleams  of  four  tallow  candles  of  eight  to  the 
pound.  A  dozen  to  fifteen  bottles  of  various  wines  had 
just  been  drunk,  for  only  eleven  of  the  Knights  were 
present.  Baruch  —  whose  name  indicates  pretty  clearly 
that  Calvinism  still  kept  some  hold  on  Issoudun  — 
said  to  Max,  as  the  wine  was  beginning  to  unloose  all 
tongues,  — 

M  You  are  threatened  in  your  stronghold." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  asked  Max. 

"  Wiry,  my  grandmother  has  had  a  letter  from 
Madame  Bridau,  who  is  her  goddaughter,  saying  that 
she  and  her  son  are  coming  here.  My  grandmother 
has  been  getting  two  rooms  read}'  for  them." 

"What's  that  to  me?"  said  Max,  taking  up  his 
glass  and  swallowing  the  contents  at  a  gulp  with  a 
comic  gesture. 

Max  was  then  thirty-four  years  old.  A  candle 
standing  near  him  threw  a  gleam  upon  his  soldierly 
face,  lit  up  his  brow,  and   brought  out  admirably  his 


The  Two  Brothers.  157 

clear  skin,  his  ardent  eyes,  his  black  and  slightly  curling 
hair,  which  had  the  brilliancy  of  jet.  The  hair  grew  vigor- 
ous^ upward  from  the  forehead  and  temples,  sharply 
defining  those  five  black  tongues  which  our  ancestors 
used  to  call  the  "  five  points."  Notwithstanding  this 
abrupt  contrast  of  black  and  white,  Max's  face  was  very 
sweet,  owing  its  charm  to  an  outline  like  that  which 
Raphael  gave  to  the  faces  of  his  Madonnas,  and  to  a 
well-cut  mouth  whose  lips  smiled  graciously,  giving  an 
expression  of  countenance  which  Max  had  made  dis- 
tinctively his  own.  The  rich  coloring  which  blooms  on 
a  Berrichon  cheek  added  still  further  to  his  look  of 
kindly  good-humor.  When  he  laughed  heartily,  he 
showed  thirt\'-two  teeth  worth}'  of  the  mouth  of  a 
pretty  woman.  In  height  about  five  feet  six  inches, 
the  3roung  man  was  admirably  well-proportioned,  — 
neither  too  stout  nor  yet  too  thin.  His  hands,  carefully 
kept,  were  white  and  rather  handsome ;  but  his  feet 
recalled  the  suburb  and  the  foot-soldier  of  the  Empire. 
Max  would  certainly  have  made  a  good  general  of  di- 
vision ;  he  had  shoulders  that  were  worth  a  fortune  to 
a  marshal  of  France,  and  a  breast  broad  enough  to  wear 
all  the  orders  of  Europe.  Every  movement  betra}*ed 
intelligence  ;  born  with  grace  and  charm,  like  nearl}*  all 
the  children  of  love,  the  noble  blood  of  his  real  father 
came  out  in  him. 

"  Don't  you  know,  Max,"  cried  the  son  of  a  former 
surgeon-major  named  Goddet — now  the  best  doctor 
in  the  town — from  the  other  end  of  the  table,  "that 
Madame  Hochon's  goddaughter  is  the  sister  of  Rouget  ? 
If  she  is  coming  here  with  her  son,  no  doubt  she  means 
to  make  sure  of  getting  the  property  when  he  dies,  and 
then —  good-by  to  your  harvest !  " 


158  The  Two  Brothers. 

Max  frowned.  Then,  with  a  look  which  ran  from 
one  face  to  another  all  round  the  table,  he  watched  the 
effect  of  this  announcement  on  the  minds  of  those 
present,  and  again  replied,  — 

"What's  that  to  me?" 

"But,"  said  Francois,  "  I  should  think  that  if  old 
Rouget  revoked  his  will,  — in  case  he  has  made  one  in 
favor  of  the  Rabouilleuse  —  " 

Here  Max  cut  short  his  henchman's  speech.  "  I  've 
stopped  the  mouths  of  people  who  have  dared  to  meddle 
with  you,  m}'  dear  Francois,"  he  said ;  "  and  is  this  the 
way  you  pay  }Tour  debts?  You  use  a  contemptuous 
nickname  in  speaking  of  a  woman  to  whom  I  am  known 
to  be  attached." 

Max  had  never  before  said  as  much  as  this  about  his 
relations  with  the  person  to  whom  Francois  had  just 
applied  a  name  under  which  she  was  known  at  Issoudun. 
The  late  prisoner  at  Cabrera  —  the  major  of  the  grena- 
diers of  the  Guard  —  knew  enough  of  what  honor  was 
to  judge  rightly  as  to  the  causes  of  the  disesteem  in 
which  society  held  him.  He  had  therefore  never  al- 
lowed any  one,  no  matter  who,  to  speak  to  him  on  the 
subject  of  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier,  the  servant-mis- 
tress of  Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  so  energetically  termed  a 
"slut"  b}r  the  respectable  Madame  Hochon.  Every- 
body knew  it  was  too  ticklish  a  subject  with  Max,  ever 
to  speak  of  it  unless  he  began  it ;  and  hitherto  he  had 
never  begun  it.  To  risk  his  anger  or  irritate  him  was 
altogether  too  dangerous  ;  so  that  even  His  best  friends 
had  never  joked  him  about  th£  Rabouilleuse.  When 
they  talked  of  his  liaison  with  the  girl  before  Major 
Potel  and  Captain  Renard,  with  whom  he  lived  on  in- 
timate terms,  Potel  would  reply, — 


The  Two  Brothers,  159 

44  If  he  is  the  natural  brother  of  Jean- Jacques  Rouget 
where  else  would  3*ou  have  him  live  ?  " 

44  Besides,  after  all,"  added  Captain  Renard,  ■  the  girl 
is  a  worthless  piece,  and  if  Max  does  live  with  her 
where  's  the  harm  ?  " 

After  this  merited  snub,  Francois  could  not  at  once 
catch  up  the  thread  of  his  ideas ;  but  he  was  still  less 
able  to  do  so  when  Max  said  to  him,  gently,  — 

"  Go  on." 

"  Faith,  no  !  "  cried  Francois. 

"  You  need  n't  get  angry,  Max,"  said  3'oung  Goddet ; 
44  did  n't  we  agree  to  talk  freely  to  each  other  at  Mere 
Cognette's?  Should  n't  we  all  be  mortal  enemies  if  we 
remembered  outside  what  is  said,  or  thought,  or  done 
here  ?  All  the  town  calls  Flore  Brazier  the  Rabouilleuse  ; 
and  if  Francois  did  happen  to  let  the  nickname  slip 
out,  is  that  a  crime  against  the  Order  of  Idleness  ?  " 

44  No,"  said  Max,  44  but  against  our  personal  friend- 
ship. However,  I  thought  better  of  it ;  I  recollected  we 
were  in  session,  and  that  was  why  I  said  4  Go  on.'  " 

A  deep  silence  followed.  The  pause  became  so  em- 
barrassing for  the  whole  company  that  Max  broke  it  by 
exclaiming :  — 

41  I'll  go  on  for  him  [sensation],  —  for  all  of  you 
[amazement],  —  and  tell  3-011  what  30U  are  thinking 
[profound  sensation].  You  think  that  Flore,  the 
Rabouilleuse,  La  Brazier,  the  housekeeper  of  Pere  Rou- 
get, —  for  they  call  him  so,  that  old  bachelor,  who 
can  never  have  any  children  ! — you  think,  I  say,  that 
that  woman  supplies  all  my  wants  ever  since  I  canv*> 
back  to  Issoudun.  If  I  am  able  to  throw  three  hundred 
francs  a  month  to  the  dogs,  and  treat  you  to  suppers,  — 
as  I  do  to-night,  —  and  lend  money  to  all  of  you,  3Tou 


160  The  Two  Brothers. 

think  I  get  the  gold  out  of  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier's 
purse?  Well,  yes  [profound  sensation].  Yes,  ten 
thousand  times  yes !  Yes,  Mademoiselle  Brazier  is 
aiming  straight  for  the  old  man's  property." 

"  She  gets  it  from  father  to  son,"  observed  Goddet, 
in  his  corner. 

"You  think,"  continued  Max,  smiling  at  Goddet' s 
speech,  "  that  I  intend  to  marry  Flore  when  Pere  Rou- 
get  dies,  and  so  this  sister  and  her  son,  of  whom  I  hear 
to-night  for  the  first  time,  will  endanger  my  future?  " 

"  That's  just  it,"  cried  Francois. 

"  That  is  what  every  one  thinks  who  is  sitting  round 
this  table,"  said  Baruch. 

"  Well,  don't  be  uneasy,  friends,"  answered  Max. 
"  Forewarned  is  forearmed  !  Now  then,  I  address  the 
Knights  of  Idleness.  If,  to  get  rid  of  these  Parisians  I 
need  the  help  of  the  Order,  will  you  lend  me  a  hand  ? 
Oh !  within  the  limits  we  have  marked  out  for  our  fool- 
eries," he  added  hastily,  perceiving  a  general  hesita- 
tion. "  Do  3'ou  suppose  I  want  to  kill  them,  —  poison 
them  ?  Thank  God  I  'm  not  an  idiot.  Besides,  if  the 
Bridaus  succeed,  and  Flore  has  nothing  but  what  she 
stands  in,  I  should  be  satisfied ;  do  you  understand 
that?  I  love  her  enough  to  prefer  her  to  Mademoiselle 
Fichet,  —  if  Mademoiselle  Fichet  would  have  me." 

Mademoiselle  Fichet  was  the  richest  heiress  in  Issou- 
dun,  and  the  hand  of  the  daughter  counted  for  much  in 
the  reported  passion  of  the  younger  Goddet  for  the 
mother.  Frankness  of  speech  is  a  pearl  of  such  price 
that  all  the  Knights  rose  to  their  feet  as  one  man. 

"You  are  a  fine  fellow,  Max  ! " 

"  Well  said,  Max  ;  we  '11  stand  by  }Tou  !  " 

"  A  fig  for  the  Bridaus  !  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  1G1 

"We'll  bridle  them!" 

"After  all,  it  is  only  three  swains  to  a  shepherdess." 

"  The  deuce  !  Pere  Lousteau  loved  Madame  Rouget ; 
is  n't  it  better  to  love  a  housekeeper  who  is  not 
yoked?" 

"  If  the  defunct  Rouget  was  Max's  father,  the  affair  is 
in  the  family." 

"  Libert}'  of  opinion  now-a-days  !  " 

"  Hurrah  for  Max  !  " 

u  Down  with  all  hypocrites  !  " 

"  Here 's  a  health  to  the  beautiful  Flore  !  " 

Such  were  the  eleven  responses,  acclamations,  and 
toasts  shouted  forth  by  the  Knights  of  Idleness,  and 
characteristic,  we  may  remark,  of  their  excessively  re- 
laxed morality.  It  is  now  easy  to  see  what  interest 
Max  had  in  becoming  their  grand  master.  By  leading 
the  young  men  of  the  best  families  in  their  follies  and 
amusements,  and  by  doing  them  services,  he  meant  to 
create  a  support  for  himself  when  the  day  for  recover- 
ing his  position  came.  He  rose  gracefully  and  waved 
his  glass  of  claret,  while  all  the  others  waited  eagerly 
for  the  coming  allocution. 

"  As  a  mark  of  the  ill-will  I  bear  you,  I  wish  you 
all  a  mistress  who  is  equal  to  the  beautiful  Flore  !  As 
to  this  irruption  of  relations,  I  don't  feel  any  pres- 
ent uneasiness ;  and  as  to  the  future,  we  '11  see  what 
comes  —  " 

44  Don't  let  us  forget  Fario's  cart !" 

"  Hang  it !  that 's  safe  enough  !  "  said  Goddet. 

"Oh!  I  '11  engage  to  settle  that  business,"  cried 
Max.  "  Be  in  the  market-place  early,  all  of  you,  and  let 
me  know  when  the  old  fellow  goes  for  his  cart." 

It  was  striking  half-past  three  in  the  morning  as  the 
11 


1G2  The  Two  Brother*. 

Knights  slipped  out  in  silence  to  go  to  their  homes ; 
gliding  close  to  the  walls  of  the  houses  without  making 
the  least  noise,  shod  as  the}'  were  in  list  shoes.  Max 
slowly  returned  to  the  place  Saint- Jean,  situated  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  town,  between  the  port  Saint-Jean 
and  the  port  Vilatte,  the  quarter  of  the  rich  bourgeoisie. 
Maxence  Gilet  had  concealed  his  fears,  but  the  news 
had  struck  home.  His  experience  on  the  hulks  at  Ca- 
brera had  taught  him  a  dissimulation  as  deep  and  thor- 
ough as  his  corruption.  First,  and  above  all  else,  the 
forty  thousand  francs  a  3Tear  from  landed  property 
which  old  Rouget  owned  was,  let  it  be  clearly  under- 
stood, the  constituent  element  of  Max's  passion  for 
Flore  Brazier.  By  his  present  bearing  it  is  eas}T  to  see 
how  much  confidence  the  woman  had  given  him  in  the 
financial  future  she  expected  to  obtain  through  the  in- 
fatuation of  the  old  bachelor.  Nevertheless,  the  news 
of  the  arrival  of  the  legitimate  heirs  was  of  a  nature  to 
shake  Max's  faith  in  Flore's  influence.  Rouget's  sav- 
ings, accumulating  during  the  last  seventeen  years,  still 
stood  in  his  own  name ;  and  even  if  the  will,  which 
Flore  declared  had  long  been  made  in  her  favor,  were 
revoked,  these  savings  at  least  might  be  secured  b}* 
putting  them  in  the  name  of  Mademoiselle  Brazier. 

u  That  fool  of  a  girl  never  told  me,  in  all  these  seven 
years,  a  word  about  the  sister  and  nephews !  "  cried 
Max,  turning  from  the  rue  de  la  Marmouse  into  the  rue 
l'Avenier.  '*  Seven  hundred  and  fifty*  thousand  francs 
placed  with  different  notaries  at  Bourges,  and  Vierzon, 
and  Chateauroux,  can't  be  turned  into  money  and  put 
into  the  Funds  in  a  week,  without  everybody  knowing  it 
in  this  gossiping  place !  The  most  important  thing  is 
to  get  rid  of  these  relations ;  as  soon  as  they  are  driven 


The  Two  Brothers.  163 

away  we  ought  to  make  haste  to  secure  the  property. 
I  must  think  it  over."  . 

Max  was  tired.  By  help  of  a  pass-key,  he  let  him- 
self into  Pere  Rouget's  house,  and  went  to  bed  without 
making  any  noise,  saying  to  himself,  — 

4i  To-morrow,  my  thoughts  will  be  clear." 

It  is  now  necessaiy  to  relate  where  the  sultana  of  the 
place  Saint- Jean  picked  up  the  nickname  of  'b  Rabouil- 
leuse,"  and  how  she  came  to  be  the  quasi- mistress  of 
Jean- Jacques  Rouget's  home. 

As  old  Doctor  Rouget,  the  father  of  Jean-Jacques 
and  Madame  Bridau,  advanced  in  years,  he  began  to 
perceive  the  nonentity  of  his  son ;  he  then  treated  him 
harshly,  tiying  to  break  him  into  a  routine  that  might 
serve  in  place  of  intelligence.  He  thus,  though  uncon- 
sciously, prepared  him  to  submit  to  the  yoke  of  the 
first  tyranny  that  threw  its  halter  over  his  head. 

Coming  home  one  day  from  his  professional  round, 
the  malignant  and  vicious  old  man  came  across  a  be- 
witching little  girl  at  the  edge  of  some  fields  that  lay 
along  the  avenue  de  Tivoli.  Hearing  the  horse,  the 
child  sprang  up  from  the  bottom  of  one  of  the  many 
brooks  which  are  to  be  seen  from  the  heights  of  Issou- 
dun,  threading  the  meadow's  like  ribbons  of  silver  on  a 
green  robe.  Naiad-like,  she  rose  suddenly  on  the  doc- 
tor's vision,  showing  the  loveliest  virgin  head  that 
painters  ever  dreamed  of.  Old  Rouget,  who  knew  the 
whole  country-side,  did  not  know  this  miracle  of  beauty. 
The  child,  who  was  half  naked,  wore  a  forlorn  little 
petticoat  of  coarse  woollen  stuff,  woven  in  alternate 
stripes  of  brown  and  white,  full  of  holes  and  very  ragged. 
A  sheet  of  rough  writing  paper,  tied  on  b}T  a  shred  of 
osier,  served  her  for  a  hat.     Beneath  this  paper  —  cov- 


164  The  Two  Brothers. 

ered  with  pot-hooks  and  round  O's,  from  which  it  derived 
the  name  .of  "  schoolpaper  "  —  the  loveliest  mass  of 
blonde  hair  that  ever  a  daughter  of  Eve  could  have  de- 
sired, was  twisted  up,  and  held  in  place  by  a  species  of 
comb  made  to  comb  out  the  tails  of  horses.  Her  pretty 
tanned  bosom,  and  her  neck,  scarcely  covered  by  a 
ragged  fichu  which  was  once  a  Madras  handkerchief, 
showed  edges  of  the  white  skin  below  the  exposed  and 
sun-burned  parts.  One  end  of  her  petticoat  was  drawn 
between  the  legs  and  fastened  with  a  huge  pin  in  front, 
giving  that  garment  the  look  of  a  pair  of  bathing  draw- 
ers. The  feet  and  the  legs,  which  could  be  seen  through 
the  clear  water  in  which  she  stood,  attracted  the  e3'e  by 
a  delicacy  which  was  worthy  of  a  sculptor  of  the  middle 
ages.  The  charming  limbs  exposed  to  the  sun  had 
a  ruddy  tone  that  was  not  without  beauty  of  its  own. 
The  neck  and  bosom  were  worthy  of  being  wrapped  in 
silks  and  cashmeres ;  and  the  nymph  had  blue  eyes 
fringed  with  long  lashes,  whose  glance  might  have  made 
a  painter  or  a  poet  fall  upon  his  knees.  The  doctor, 
enough  of  an  anatomist  to  trace  the  exquisite  figure,  rec- 
ognized the  loss  it  would  be  to  art  if  the  lines  of  such  a 
model  were  destroyed  by  the  hard  toil  of  the  fields. 

44  Where  do  3011  come  from,  little  girl?  I  have  never 
seen  you  before,"  said  the  old  doctor,  then  sixty-two 
years  of  age.  This  scene  took  place  in  the  month  of 
September,  1799. 

44 1  belong  in  Vatan,"  she  answered. 

Hearing  Rouget's  voice,  an  ill-looking  man,  standing 
at  some  distance  in  the  deeper  waters  of  the  brook, 
raised  his  head.  44  What  are  you  about,  Flore?"  he 
said,  44  While  you  are  talking  instead  of  catching,  the 
creatures  will  get  away." 


The  Two  Brothers.  165 

"  Why  have  you  come  here  from  Vatan?"  continued 
the  doctor,  paying  no  heed  to  the  interruption. 

44  I  am  catching  crabs  for  my  uncle  Brazier  here." 

Rabouiller  is  a  Berrichon  word  which  admirably  de- 
scribes the  thing  it  is  intended  to  express  ;  namely,  the 
action  of  troubling  the  water  of  a  brook,  making  it 
boil  and  bubble  with  a  branch  whose  end-shoots  spread 
out  like  a  racket.  The  crabs,  frightened  by  this  opera- 
ation,  which  they  do  not  understand,  come  hastily  to 
the  surface,  and  in  their  flurry  rush  into  the  net  the 
fisher  has  laid  for  them  .at  a  little  distance.  Flore 
Brazier  held  her  rabouilloir  in  her  hand  with  the  natu- 
ral grace  of  childlike  innocence. 

44  Has  your  uncle  got  permission  to  hunt  crabs?  " 

"  Hey !  are  not  we  all  under  a  Republic  that  is  one 
and  indivisible?  "  cried  the  uncle  from  his  station. 

44  We  are  under  a  Directory,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and 
I  know  of  no  law  which  allows  a  man  to  come  from 
Vatan  and  fish  in  the  territo^  of  Issoudun  ; "  then 
he  said  to  Flore,  "  Have  you  got  a  mother,  little 
one !  " 

"No,  monsieur;  and  my  father  is  in  the  asylum  at 
Bourges.  He  went  mad  from  a  sun-stroke  he  got  in  the 
fields." 

44  How  much  do  you  earn?  " 

"  Five  sous  a  day  while  the  season  lasts  ;  I  catch  'em 
as  far  as  the  Braisne.  In  harvest  time,  I  glean ;  in 
winter,  I  spin." 

' '  You  are  about  twelve  years  old  ?  " 

44  Yes,  monsieur." 

11  Do  you  want  to  come  with  me?  You  shall  be  well 
fed  and  well  dressed,  and  have  some  pretty  shoes." 

44  No,  my  niece  will  stay  with  me ;  I  am  responsible 


166  The  Two  Brothers. 

to  God  and  man  for  her,"  said  Uncle  Brazier  who  bad 
come  up  to  them.      uIam  her  guardian,  dVe  see?  " 

The  doctor  kept  his  countenance,  and  checked  a  smile 
which  might  have  escaped  most  people  at  the  aspect  of 
the  man.  The  guardian  wore  a  peasant's  hat,  rotted  by 
sun  and  rain,  eaten  like  the  leaves  of  a  cabbage  that  has 
harbored  several  caterpillars,  and  mended,  here  and 
there,  with  white  thread.  Beneath  the  hat  was  a  dark 
and  sunken  face,  in  which  the  mouth,  nose,  and  eyes, 
seemed  four  black  spots.  His  forlorn  jacket  was  a  bit 
of  patchwork,  and  his  trousers  were  of  crash  towelling. 

uIam  Doctor  Rouget,"  said  that  individual ;  "  and  as 
you  are  the  guardian  of  the  child,  bring  her  to  my  house, 
in  the  place  Saint- Jean.  It  will  not  be  a  bad  day's 
work  for  you ;  nor  for  her,  either." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  and  sure  that  Uncle 
Brazier  would  soon  appear  with  his  pretty  rabouilleuse, 
Doctor  Rouget  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  returned  to 
Issoudun.  He  had  hardly  sat  down  to  dinner,  before 
his  cook  announced  the  arrival  of  the  citoyen  and  citoy- 
enne  Brazier. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  the  doctor  to  the  uncle  and  niece. 

Flore  and  her  guardian,  still  barefooted,  looked  round 
the  doctor's  dining-room  with  wondering  eyes ;  never 
having  seen  its  like  before. 

The  house,  which  Rouget  inherited  from  the  Des- 
coings  estate,  stands  in  the  middle  of  the  place  Saint- 
Jean,  a  so-called  square,  very  long  and  very  narrow, 
planted  with  a  few  sickly  lindens.  The  houses  in  this 
part  of  the  town  are  better  built  than  elsewhere,  and 
that  of  the  Descoings's  was  one  of  the  finest.  It  stands 
opposite  to  the  house  of  Monsieur  Hochon,  and  has 
three  windows  in  front  on  the  first  storey,  and  a  porte- 


The  Two  Brothers.  167 

cochere  on  the  ground-floor  which  gives  entrance  to  a 
courtyard,  beyond  which  lies  the  garden.  Under  the 
archway  of  the  porte-cochere  is  the  door  of  a  large  hall 
lighted  by  two  windows  on  the  street.  The  kitchen  is 
behind  this  hall,  part  of  the  space  being  used  for  a 
staircase  which  leads  to  the  upper  floor  and  to  the 
attic  above  that.  Beyond  the  kitchen  is  a  wood-shed 
and  wash-house,  a  stable  for  two  horses  and  a  coach- 
house, over  which  are  some  little  lofts  for  the  storage 
of  oats,  ha}^,  and  straw,  where,  at  that  time,  the  doctor's 
servant  slept. 

The  hall  which  the  little  peasant  and  her  uncle  ad- 
mired with  such  wonder  is  decorated  with  wooden 
carvings  of  the  time  of  Louis  XV.,  painted  gra}T,  and 
a  handsome  marble  chimney-piece,  over  which  Flore 
beheld  herself  in  a  large  mirror  without  any  upper  divi- 
sion and  with  a  carved  and  gilded  frame.  On  the  pan- 
elled walls  of  the  room,  from  space  to  space,  hung 
several  pictures,  the  spoil  of  various  religious  houses, 
such  as  the  abbe3rs  of  Deols,  Issoudun,  Saint-Gildas, 
La  Pree,  Chezal-Benoit,  Saint-Sulpice,  and  the  convents 
of  Bourges  and  Issoudun,  which  the  liberality  of  our 
kings  had  enriched  with  the  precious  gift  of  the  glorious 
works  called  forth  by  the  Renaissance.  Among  the 
pictures  obtained  by  the  Descoings  and  inherited  by 
Rouget,  was  a  Holy  Family  by  Albano,  a  Saint-Jerome 
of  Domenichino,  a  Head  of  Christ  by  Gian  Bellini,  a 
Virgin  of  Leonardo,  a  Bearing  of  the  Cross  by  Titian, 
which  formerly  belonged  to  the  Marquis  de  Belabre 
(the  one  who  sustained  a  siege  and  had  his  head  cut 
off  under  Louis  XIII.)  ;  a  Lazarus  of  Paul  Veronese,  a 
Marriage  of  the  Virgin  by  the  priest  Genois,  two  church 
paintings  by  Rubens,   and  a  replica  of  a  picture  by 


168  The  Two  Brothers. 

Perugino,  done  either  by  Perugino  himself  or  b}'  Raphael ; 
and  finally,  two  Correggios  and  one  Andrea  del  Sarto. 

The  Descoings  had  culled  these  treasures  from  three 
hundred  church  pictures,  without  knowing  their  value, 
and  selecting  them  only  for  their  good  preservation. 
Many  were  not  only  in  magnificent  frames,  but  some 
were  still  under  glass.  Perhaps  it  was  the  beaut}'  of 
the  frames  and  the  value  of  the  glass  that  led  the 
Descoings  to  retain  the  pictures.  The  furniture  of  the 
room  was  not  wanting  in  the  sort  of  luxury  we  prize 
in  these  days,  though  at  that  time  it  had  no  value  in 
Issoudun.  The  clock,  standing  on  the  mantle-shelf  be- 
tween two  superb  silver  candlesticks  with  six  branches, 
had  an  ecclesiastical  splendor  which  revealed  the  hand  of 
Boulle.  The  armchairs  of  carved  oak,  covered  with 
tapestry-work  due  to  the  devoted  industry  of  women 
of  high  rank,  would  be  treasured  in  these  days,  for 
each  was  surmounted  with  a  crown  and  coat- of- arms. 
Between  the  windows  stood  a  rich  console,  brought 
from  some  castle,  on  whose  marble  slab  stood  an  im- 
mense China  jar,  in  which  the  doctor  kept  his  tobacco. 
But  neither  Rouget,  nor  his  son,  nor  the  cook,  took  the 
slightest  care  of  all  these  treasures.  They  spat  upon 
a  hearth  of  exquisite  delicac}-,  whose  gilded  mouldings 
were  now  green  with  verdigris.  A  handsome  chande- 
lier, partly  of  semi-transparent  porcelain,  was  peppered, 
like  the  ceiling  from  which  it  hung,  with  black  speckles, 
bearing  witness  to  the  immunity  enjoyed  03-  the  flies. 
The  Descoings  had  draped  the  windows  with  brocatelle 
curtains  torn  from  the  bed  of  some  monastic  prior.  To 
the  left  of  the  entrance-door,  stood  a  chest  or  coffer, 
worth  many  thousand  francs,  which  the  doctor  now  used 
for  a  sideboard, 


The  Two  Brothers.  169 

"  Here,  Fanchette,"  cried  Rouget  to  his  cook,  "  bring 
two  glasses  ;  and  give  us  some  of  the  old  wine." 

Fanchette,  a  big  Berrichon  countrywoman,  who  was 
considered  a  better  cook  than  even  La  Cognette,  ran  in 
to  receive  the  order  with  a  celerit}-  which  caid  much  for 
the  doctor's  despotism,  and  something  also  for  her  own 
curiosity. 

kw  What  is  an  acre  of  vinej'ard  worth  in  your 
parts  ?  "  asked  the  doctor,  pouring  out  a  glass  of  wine 
for  Brazier. 

"  Three  hundred  francs  in  silver." 

' '  Well,  then  !  leave  3-our  niece  here  as  my  servant ; 
she  shall  have  three  hundred  francs  in  wages,  and,  as 
you  are  her  guardian,  you  can  take  them." 

"  Every  year  ? "  exclaimed  Brazier,  with  his  eyes  as 
wide  as  saucers. 

"I  leave  that  to  your  conscience,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  She  is  an  orphan  ;  up  to  eighteen,  she  has  no  right  to 
what  she  earns." 

"Twelve  to  eighteen — that's  six  acres  of  vineyard  !" 
said  the  uncle.  "  Ay,  she's  a  pretty  one,  gentle  as  a 
lamb,  well  made  and  active,  and  obedient  as  a  kitten. 
She  were  the  light  o'  my  poor  brother's  eyes  —  " 

"  I  will  pay  a  year  in  advance,"  observed  the  doctor. 

44  Bless  me!  say  two  years,  and  I'll  leave  her  with 
you,  for  she  '11  be  better  off  with  you  than  with  us  ;  my 
wife  beats  her,  she  can't  abide  her.  There  's  none  but 
I  to  stand  up  for  her,  and  the  little  saint  of  a  creature 
is  as  innocent  as  a  new-born  babe/' 

When  he  heard  the  last  part  of  this  speech,  the  doc- 
tor, struck  by  the  word  "  innocent,"  made  a  sign  to  the 
uncle  and  took  him  out  into  the  courtyard  and  from 
thence  to  the  garden  ;  leaving  the  Rabouilleuse  at  the 


170  The  Two  Brothers. 

table  with  Fanchette  and  Jean- Jacques,  who  immediately 
questioned  her,  and  to  whom  she  naively  related  her 
meeting  with  the  doctor. 

"There  now,  my  little  darling,  good-b}-,"  said  Uncle 
Brazier,  coming  back  and  kissing  Flore  on  the  fore- 
head ;  " you  can  well  say  I've  made  your  happiness  hy 
leaving  you  with  this  kind  and  worttry  father  of  the 
poor ;  you  must  obey  him  as  you  would  me.  Be  a  good 
girl,  and  behave   nicely,  and  do  everything   he   tells 

you." 

"Get  the  room  over  mine  read}',"  said  the  doctor  to 
Fanchette.  "  Little  Flore  —  I  am  sure  she  is  worthy  of 
the  name  —  will  sleep  there  in  future.  To-morrow,  we  '11 
send  for  a  shoemaker  and  a  dressmaker.  Put  another 
plate  on  the  table  ;  she  shall  keep  us  company." 

That  evening,  all  Issoudun  talked  of  nothing  else  than 
the  sudden  appearance  of  the  little  rabouilleuse  in  Doc- 
tor Rouget's  house.  In  that  region  of  satire  the  nick- 
name stuck  to  Mademoiselle  Brazier  before,  during,  and 
after  the  period  of  her  good  fortune. 

The  doctor  no  doubt  intended  to  do  with  Flore  Bra- 
zier, in  a  small  way,  what  Louis  XV.  did  in  a  large 
one  with  Mademoiselle  de  Romans  ;  but  he  was  too  late 
about  it ;  Louis  XV.  was  still  3'oung,  whereas  the  doc- 
tor was  in  the  flower  of  old  age.  From  twelve  to 
fourteen,  the  charming  little  Rabouilleuse  lived  a  life 
of  unmixed  happiness.  Always  well-dressed,  and  often 
much  better  tricked  out  than  the  richest  girls  in  Issou- 
dun, she  sported  a  gold  watch  and  jewels,  given  by 
the  doctor  to  encourage  her  studies,  and  she  had 
a  master  who  taught  her  to  read,  write,  and  cipher. 
But  the  almost  animal  life  of  the  true  peasant  had  in- 
stilled into  Flore  such  deep  repugnance  to   the  bitter 


The  Two  Brothers.  171 

cup  of  knowledge,  that  the  doctor  stopped  her  education 
at  that  point.  His  intentions  with  regard  to  the  child, 
whom  he  cleansed,  and  clothed,  and  taught,  and  formed 
with  a  care  which  was  all  the  more  remarkable  because 
he  was  thought  to  be  utterly  devoid  of  tenderness, 
were  interpreted  in  a  variety  of  ways  by  the  cackling 
society  of  the  town,  whose  gossip  often  gave  rise  to  fatal 
blunders,  like  those  relating  to  the  birth  of  Agathe  and 
that  of  Max.  It.  is  not  eas}7  for  the  community  of  a 
country  town  to  disentangle  the  truth  from  the  mass  of 
conjecture  and  contradictory  reports  to  which  a  single 
fact  gives  rise.  The  provinces  insist  —  as  in  former 
days  the  politicians  of  the  little  Provence  at  the  Tuileries 
insisted  —  on  full  explanations,  and  they  usually  end  by 
knowing  everything.  But  each  person  clings  to  the 
version  of  the  event  which  he,  or  she,  likes  best ;  pro- 
claims it,  argues  it,  and  considers  it  the  only  true  one. 
In  spite  of  the  strong  light  cast  upon  people's  lives  by 
the  constant  spying  of  a  little  town,  truth  is  thus  often 
obscured ;  and  to  be  recognized,  it  needs  the  impar- 
tiality which  historians  or  superior  minds  acquire  by 
looking  at  the  subject  from  a  higher  point  of  view. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  that  old  gorilla  wants  at  his 
age  with  a  little  girl  only  fifteen  years  old?"  society 
was  still  saying  two  years  after  the  arrival  of  the 
Rabouilleuse. 

"Ah!  that's  true,"  they  answered,  "his  days  of 
meny-making  are  long  past." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  the  doctor  is  disgusted  at  the  stu- 
pidity of  his  son,  and  he  persists  in  hating  his  daughter 
Agathe ;  it  may  be  that  he  has  been  living  a  decent 
life  for  the  last  two  years,  intending  to  many  little 
Flore  ;   suppose  she  were  to  give  him  a  fine,  active, 


172  The  Two  Brothers. 

strapping  boy,  full  of  life  like  Max?"  said  one  of  the 
wise  heads  of  the  town. 

"Bah!  don't  talk  nonsense!  After  such  a  life  as 
Rouget  and  Lousteau  led  from  1770  to  1787,  is  it  likely 
that  either  of  them  would  have  children  at  sixty-five 
3'ears  of  age  ?  The  old  villain  has  read  the  Scriptures, 
if  only  as  a  doctor,  and  he  is  doing  as  David  did  in  his 
old  age  ;  that's  all." 

"  They  say  that  Brazier,  when  he  is  drunk,  boasts  in 
Vatan  that  he  cheated  him,"  cried  one  of  those  who 
always  believed  the  worst  of  people. 

"Good  heavens!  neighbor;  what  won't  they  say  at 
Issoudun  ?  " 

From  1800  to  1805,  that  is,  for  five  years,  the  doctor 
enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  of  educating  Flore  without  the 
annojances  which  the  ambitions  and  pretensions  of 
Mademoiselle  de  Romans  inflicted,  it  is  said,  on  Louis 
le  Bien-Aime.  The  little  Rabouilleuse  was  so  satisfied 
when  she  compared  the  life  she  led  at  the  doctor's  with 
that  she  would  have  led  at  her  uncle  Brazier's,  that  she 
yielded  no  doubt  to  the  exactions  of  her  master  as  if  she 
had  been  an  Eastern  slave.  With  due  deference  to  the 
makers  of  idyls  and  to  philanthropists,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  provinces  have  very  little  idea  of  certain  virtues  ; 
and  their  scruples  are  of  a  kind  that  is  roused  by  self- 
interest,  and  not  by  any  sentiment  of  the  right  or  the 
becoming.  Raised  from  infanc}'  with  no  prospect  be- 
fore them  but  poverty  and  ceaseless  labor,  they  are  led  to 
consider  anything  that  saves  them  from  the  hell  of  hun- 
ger and  eternal  toil  as  permissible,  particularly  if  it  is 
not  contrary  to  any  law.  Exceptions  to  this  rule  are 
rare.  Virtue,  socially  speaking,  is  the  companion  of  a 
comfortable  life,  and  comes  only  with  education. 


The  Two  Brothers.  173 

Thus  the  Rabouilleuse  was  an  object  of  envy  to  all 
the  young  peasant-girls  within  a  circuit  of  ten  miles, 
although  her  conduct,  from  a  religious  point  of  view, 
was  supremely  reprehensible.  Flore,  born  in  1787,  grew 
up  in  the  midst  of  the  saturnalias  of  1793  and  1798, 
whose  lurid  gleams  penetrated  these  country  regions, 
then  deprived  of  priests  and  faith  and  altars  and  relig- 
ious ceremonies  ;  where  marriage  was  nothing  more  than 
legal  coupling,  and  revolutionary  maxims  left  a  deep 
impression.  This  was  markedly  the  case  at  Issoudun, 
a  land  where,  as  we  have  seen,  revolt  of  all  kinds  is 
traditional.  In  1802,  Catholic  worship  was  scarcely 
re-established.  The  Emperor  found  it  a  difficult  matte- 
to  obtain  priests.  In  1806,  many  parishes  all  over 
France  were  still  widowed ;  so  slowly  were  the  clergy, 
decimated  by  the  scaffold,  gathered  together  again  after 
their  violent  dispersion. 

In  1802,  therefore,  nothing  was  likely  to  reproach 
Flore  Brazier,  unless  it  might  be  her  conscience ;  and 
conscience  was  sure  to  be  weaker  than  self-interest  in 
the  ward  of  Uncle  Brazier.  If,  as  everybody  chose  to 
suppose,  the  cynical  doctor  was  compelled  by  his  age 
to  respect  a  child  of  fifteen,  the  Rabouilleuse  was  none 
the  less  considered  very  "wide  awake,"  a  term  much 
used  in  that  region.  Still,  some  persons  thought  she 
could  claim  a  certificate  of  innocence  from  the  cessation 
of  the  doctor's  cares  and  attentions  in  the  last  two  j'ears 
of  his  life,  during  which  time  he  showed  her  something 
more  than  coldness. 

Old  Rouget  had  killed  too  man}'  people  not  to  know 
when  his  own  end  was  nigh  ;  and  his  notary,  finding 
him  on  his  death-bed,  draped  as  it  were,  in  the  mantle 
of  encyclopaedic  philosophy,  pressed  him  to  make  a  pro- 


174  The  Two  Brothers. 

vision  in  favor  of  the  young  girl,  then  seventeen  years 

old. 

n  So  I  do,"  he  said,  cynically  ;  "  my  death  sets  her 

at  liberty." 

This  speech  paints  the  nature  of  the  old  man.  Cov- 
ering his  evil  doings  with  witty  sayings,  he  obtained 
indulgence  for  them,  in  a  land  where  wit  is  always 
applauded,  —  especially  when  addressed  to  obvious 
self-interest.  In  those  words  the  notary  read  the  con- 
centrated hatred  of  a  man  whose  calculations  had  been 
balked  by  Nature  herself,  and  who  revenged  himself 
upon  the  innocent  object  of  an  impotent  love.  This 
opinion  was  confirmed  to  some  extent  by  the  obstinate 
resolution  of  the  doctor  to  leave  nothing  to  the  Rabouil- 
leuse,  saying  with  a  bitter  smile,  when  the  notary  again 
urged  the  subject  upon  him,  — 

"  Her  beauty  will  make  her  rich  enough !  " 


The  Two  Brothers. 


IX. 


Jean-Jacques  Rouget  did  not  mourn  his  father, 
though  Flore  Brazier  did.  The  old  doctor  had  made 
his  son  extremely  unhappy,  especially  since  he  came  of 
age,  which  happened  in  1791 ;  but  he  had  given  the 
little  peasant-girl  the  material  pleasures  which  are  the 
ideal  of  happiness  to  country-folk.  When  Fanchette 
asked  Flore,  after  the  funeral,  M  Well,  what  is  to  be- 
come of  you,  now  that  monsieur  is  dead  ?  "  Jean-Jacques's 
eyes  lighted  up,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  his 
dull  face  grew  animated,  showed  feeling,  and  seemed  to 
brighten  under  the  rays  of  a  thought. 

"Leave  the  room,"  he  said  to  Fanchette,  who  was 
clearing  the  table. 

At  seventeen,  Flore  retained  that  delicac}T  of  feature 
and  form,  that  distinction  of  beauty  which  attracted  the 
doctor,  and  which  women  of  the  world  know  how  to 
preserve,  though  it  fades  among  the  peasant-girls  like 
the  flowers  of  the  field.  Nevertheless,  the  tendency  to 
embonpoint,  which  handsome  countrywomen  develop 
when  the}'  no  longer  live  a  life  of  toil  and  hardship  in 
the  fields  and  in  the  sunshine,  was  already  noticeable 
about  her.  Her  bust  had  developed.  The  plump  white 
shoulders  were  modelled  on  rich  lines  that  harmoniously 
blended  with  those  of  the  throat,  already  showing  a  few 
folds  of  flesh.  But  the  outline  of  the  face  was  still 
faultless,  and  the  chin  delicate. 


176  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Flore."  said  Jean-Jacques,  in  a  trembling  voice, 
41  you  feel  at  home  in  this  house?" 

"  Yes,  Monsieur  Jean." 

As  the  heir  was  about  to  make  his  declaration,  he 
felt  his  tongue  stiffen  at  the  recollection  of  the  dead 
man,  just  put  away  in  his  grave,  and  a  doubt  seized  him 
as  to  what  lengths  his  father's  benevolence  might  have 
gone.  Flore,  who  was  quite  unable  even  to  suspect  his 
simplicity  of  mind,  looked  at  her  future  master  and 
waited  for  a  time,  expecting  Jean- Jacques  to  go  on  with 
what  he  was  saying;  but  she  finally  left  him  without 
knowing  what  to  think  of  such  obstinate  silence.  What- 
ever teaching  the  Rabouilleuse  may  have  received  from 
the  doctor,  it  was  many  a  long  day  before  she  fully 
understood  the  character  of  Jean-Jacques,  whose  history 
we  now  present  in  a  few  words. 

At  the  death  of  his  father,  Jacques,  then  thirty-seven, 
was  as  timid  and  submissive  to  paternal  discipline  as  a 
child  of  twelve  years  old.  That  timidity  ought  to  ex- 
plain his  childhood,  }outh,  and  after-life  to  those  who 
are  reluctant  to  admit  the  existence  of  such  characters, 
or  such  facts  as  this  history  relates,  —  though  proofs  of 
them  are,  alas,  common  everywhere,  even  among  princes  ; 
for  Sophie  Dawes  was  taken  by  the  last  of  the  Condes 
under  worse  circumstances  than  the  Rabouilleuse.  There 
are  two  species  of  timidity,  — the  timidity  of  the  mind, 
and  the  timidity  of  the  nerves  ;  a  phjsical  timidity,  and 
a  moral  timidity.  The  one  is  independent  of  the  other. 
The  body  may  fear  and  tremble,  while  the  mind  is  calm 
and  courageous,  or  vice  versa.  This  is  the  key  to  many 
moral  eccentricities.  When  the  two  are  united  in  one 
man,  that  man  will  be  a  cipher  all  his  life  ;  such  double- 
sided  timidity  makes  him  what  we  call  "  an  imbecile." 


The  Two  Brothers.  177 

Often  fine  suppressed  qualities  are  hidden  within  that 
imbecile.  To  this  double  infirmity  we  maj',  perhaps,  owe 
the  lives  of  certain  monks  who  lived  in  ecstasy  ;  for  this 
unfortunate  moral  and  physical  disposition  is  produced 
quite  as  much  by  the  perfection  of  the  soul  and  of  the 
organs,  as  by  defects  which  are  still  unstudied. 

The  timidity  of  Jean-Jacques  came  from  a  certain 
torpor  of  his  faculties,  which  a  great  teacher  or  a  great 
surgeon,  like  Despleins,  would  have  roused.  In  him, 
as  in  the  cretins,  the  sense  of  love  had  inherited  a 
strength  and  vigor  which  were  lacking  to  his  mental 
qualities,  though  he  had  mind  enough  to  guide  him  in 
ordinary  affairs.  The  violence  of  passion,  stripped  of 
the  ideal  in  which  most  young  men  expend  it,  only  in- 
creased his  timidity.  He  had  never  brought  himself  to 
court,  as  the  saying  is,  any  woman  in  Issoudun.  Cer- 
tainly no  young  girl  or  matron  would  make  advances 
to  a  3'oung  man  of  mean  stature,  awkward  and  shame- 
faced in  attitude ;  whose  vulgar  face,  with  its  flattened 
features  and  pallid  skin,  making  him  look  old  before 
his  time,  was  rendered  still  more  hideous  by  a  pair  of 
large  and  prominent  light-green  eyes.  The  presence  of 
a  woman  stultified  the  poor  fellow,  who  was  driven 
by  passion  on  the  one  hand  as  violently  as  the  lack  of 
ideas,  resulting  from  his  education,  held  him  back  on 
the  other.  Paralyzed  between  these  opposing  forces, 
he  had  not  a  word  to  say,  and  feared  to  be  spoken  to, 
so  much  did  he  dread  the  obligation  of  replying.  De- 
sire, which  usually  sets  free  the  tongue,  only  petrified 
his  powers  of  speech.  Thus  it  happened  that  Jean- 
Jacques  Rouget  was  solitary  ard  sought  solitude  be* 
cause  there  alone  he  was  at  his  case. 

The  doctor  had  seen,  too  late  for  re/nedy,  th&  havov 
12 


178  The  Two  Brothers. 

wrought  in  his  son's  life  b}'  a  temperament  and  a  char- 
acter of  this  kind.  He  would  have  been  glad  to  get  him 
married  ;  but  to  do  that,  he  must  deliver  him  over  to  an 
influence  that  was  certain  to  become  tyrannical,  and  the 
doctor  hesitated.  Was  it  not  practically  giving  the 
whole  management  of  the  property  into  the  hands  of  a 
stranger,  some  unknown  girl?  The  doctor  knew  how 
difficult  it  was  to  gain  true  indications  of  the  moral 
character  of  a  woman  from  an}T  stud}'  of  a  young  girl. 
So,  while  he  continued  to  search  for  a  daughter-in-law 
whose  sentiments  and  education  offered  some  guar- 
antees for  the  future,  he  endeavored  to  push  his  son 
into  the  ways  of  avarice ;  meaning  to  give  the  poor 
fool  a  sort  of  instinct  that  might  eventually  take  the 
place  of  intelligence. 

He  trained  him,  in  the  first  place,  to  mechanical 
habits  of  life ;  and  instilled  into  him  fixed  ideas  as 
to  the  investment  of  his  revenues :  and  he  spared 
him  the  chief  difficulties  of  the  management  of  a  for- 
tune, b}'  leaving  his  estates  all  in  good  order,  and 
leased  for  long  periods.  Nevertheless,  a  fact  which 
was  destined  to  be  of  paramount  importance  in  the  life 
of  the  poor  creature  escaped  the  notice  of  the  wily  old 
doctor.  Timidity  is  a  good  deal  like  dissimulation,  and 
is  equally  secretive.  Jean-Jacques  was  passionately  in 
love  with  the  Rabouilleuse.  Nothing,  of  course,  could 
be  more  natural.  Flore  was  the  only  woman  who  lived 
in  the  bachelor's  presence,  the  only  one  he  could  see  at 
his  ease ;  and  at  all  hours  he  secretly  contemplated  her 
and  watched  her.  To  him,  she  was  the  light  of  his  pa- 
ternal home ;  she  gave  him,  unknown  to  herself,  the 
only  pleasures  that  brightened  his  youth.  Far  from  be- 
ing jealous  of  his  father,  he  rejoiced  in  the  education  the 


The  Two  Brothers.  179 

old  man  was  giving  to  Flore  :  would  it  not  make  her  all 
he  wanted,  a  woman  easy  to  win,  and  to  whom,  there- 
fore, he  need  pay  no  court?  The  passion,  observe, 
which  is  able  to  reflect,  gives  even  to  ninnies,  fools,  and 
imbeciles  a  species  of  intelligence,  especially  in  youth. 
In  the  lowest  human  creature  we  find  an  animal  instinct 
whose  persistency  resembles  thought. 

The  next  day,  Flore,  who  had  been  reflecting  on  her 
master's  silence,  waited  in  expectation  of  some  momen- 
tous communication ;  but  although  he  kept  near  her, 
and  looked  at  her  on  the  sly  with  passionate  glances, 
Jean-Jacques  still  found  nothing  to  sa}\  At  last,  when 
the  dessert  was  on  the  table,  he  recommenced  the  scene 
of  the  night  before. 

"  You  like  your  life  here?"  he  said  to  Flore. 

"  Yes,  Monsieur  Jean." 

"  Well,  stay  here  then." 

"  Thank  3-ou,  Monsieur  Jean." 

This  strange  situation  lasted  three  weeks.  One  night, 
when  no  sound  broke  the  stillness  of  the  house,  Flore, 
who  chanced  to  wake  up,  heard  the  regular  breathing  of 
human  lungs  outside  her  door,  and  was  frightened  to 
discover  Jean-Jacques,  crouched  like  a  dog  on  the 
landing. 

uHe  loves  me,"  she  thought;  "but  he  will  get  the 
rheumatism  if  he  keeps  up  that  sort  of  thing." 

The  next  da}'  Flore  looked  at  her  master  with  a  cer- 
tain expression.  This  mute  almost  instinctive  love  had 
touched  her ;  she  no  longer  thought  the  poor  ninny  so 
ugly,  though  his  forehead  was  crowned  with  pimples 
resembling  ulcers,  the  signs  of  a  vitiated  blood. 

"  You  don't  want  to  go  back  and  live  in  the  fields,  do 
you  ?  "  said  Jean-Jacques  when  they  wore  alone. 


180  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Why  do  yon  ask  me  that?  "  she  said,  looking  at  him. 

"  To  know  —  "  replied  Rouget,  turning  the  color  of  a 
boiled  lobster. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  send  me  back?  "  she  asked. 

"No,  mademoiselle." 

"Well,  what  is  it  you  want  to  know?  You  have 
some  reason  —  " 

"Yes,  I  want  to  know  —  " 

"What?"  said  Flore. 

"You  won't  tell  me?"  exclaimed  Rouget. 

"  Yes  I  will,  on  my  honor —  " 

aAh!  that's  it,"  returned  Rouget,  with  a  frightened 
air.     "  Are  30U  an  honest  girl?  " 

"I'll  take  my  oath  —  " 

"  Are  you,  truly?" 

"  Don't  }*ou  hear  me  tell  30U  so? " 

"  Come;  are  you  the  same  as  you  were  when  your 
uncle  brought  you  here  barefooted  ?  " 

"  A  fine  question,  faith  !  "  cried  Flore,  blushing. 

The  heir  lowered  his  head  and  did  not  raise  it  again. 
Flore,  amazed  at  such  an  encouraging  sign  from  a  man 
who  had  beon  overcome  by  a  fear  of  that  nature,  left 
the  room. 

Three  days  later,  at  the  same  hour  (for  both  seemed 
to  regard  the  dessert  as  a  field  of  battle),  Flore  spoke 
first,  and  said  to  her  master,  — 

"  Have  you  anything  against  me?  " 

"No,  mademoiselle,"  he  answered,  "No —  [a  pause] 
On  the  contrary." 

"You  seemed  annoyed  the  other  day  to  hear  I  was 
an  honest  girl." 

"No,  I  only  wished  to  know  —  [a  pause]  But  you 
would  not  tell  me  —  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  181 

"On  my  word !  "  she  said,  "I  will  tell  you  the  whole 
truth." 

4  k  The  whole  truth  about  —  my  father  ?  "  he  asked  in 
a  strangled  voice. 

"  Your  father,"  she  said,  looking  full  into  her  master's 
e3'e,  "was  a  worthy  man  —  he  liked  a  joke — What 
of  that?  —  there  was  nothing  in  it.  But,  poor  dear  man, 
it  was  n't  the  will  that  was  wanting.  The  truth  is,  he 
had  some  spite  against  you,  I  don't  know  what,  and  he 
meant  —  oh  !  he  meant  }-ou  harm.  Sometimes  he  made 
me  laugh  ;  but  there  !  what  of  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  Flore,"  said  the  heir,  taking  her  hand,  "  as 
my  father  was  nothing  to  you  —  " 

"What  did  }'ou  suppose  he  was  to  me?"  she  cried, 
as  if  offended  by  some  unworthy  suspicion. 

"Well,  but  just  listen  —  " 

"He  was  my  benefactor,  that  was  all.  Ah!  he 
would  have  liked  to  make  me  his  wife,  but  —  " 

"  But,"  said  Rouget,  taking  the  hand  which  Flore  had 
snatched  away  from  him,  "if  he  was  nothing  to  you 
you  can  stay  here  with  me,  can't  .you?  " 

"  If  you  wish  it,"  she  said,  dropping  her  eyes. 

' '  No,  no  !  if  you  wish  it,  3-ou  !  "  exclaimed  Rouget. 
"Yes,  you  shall  be  —  mistress  here.  All  that  is  here 
shall  be  yours ;  you  shall  take  care  of  m}r  property,  it 
is  almost  yours  now  —  for  I  love  you  ;  I  have  always 
loved  you  since  the  day  you  came  and  stood  there  — 
there  !  —  with  bare  feet." 

Flore  made  no  answer.  When  the  silence  became 
embarrassing,  Jean-Jacques  had  recourse  to  a  terrible 
argument. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  with  visible  warmth,  "  wouldn't  it 
be  better  than  returning  to  the  fields  ?  " 


182  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  As  you  will,  Monsieur  Jean,"  she  answered. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  her  "  as  you  will,"  Jean- 
Jacques  got  no  further.  Men  of  his  nature  want  cer- 
tainty. The  effort  that  they  make  in  avowing  their 
love  is  so  great,  and  costs  them  so  much,  that  they  feel 
unable  to  go  on  with  it.  This  accounts  for  their  attach- 
ment to  the  first  woman  who  accepts  them.  We  can 
only  guess  at  circumstances  by  results.  Ten  months 
after  the  death  of  his  father,  Jean-Jacques  changed 
completely ;  his  leaden  face  cleared,  and  his  whole 
countenance  breathed  happiness.  Flore  exacted  that 
he  should  take  minute  care  of  his  person,  and  her  own 
vanity  was  gratified  in  seeing  him  well-dressed  ;  she 
always  stood  on  the  sill  of  the  door,  and  watched  him 
starting  for  a  walk,  until  she  could  see  him  no  longer. 
The  whole  town  noticed  these  changes,  which  had  made 
a  new  man  of  the  bachelor.. 

4 '  Have  you  heard  the  news  ?  "  people  said  to  each 
other  in  Issoudun. 

44  What  is  it?" 

44  Jean- Jacques  inherits  everything  from  his  father, 
even  the  Rabouilleuse." 

44  Don't  3"ou  suppose  the  old  doctor  was  wicked 
enough  to  provide  a  ruler  for  his  son?" 

44  Rouget  has  got  a  treasure,  that's  certain,"  said 
everybody. 

44  She  's  a  sly  one  !  She  is  very  handsome,  and  she 
will  make  him  marry  her." 

S4  What  luck  that  girl  has  had,  to  be  sure !  " 

44  The  luck  that  only  comes  to  pretty  girls." 

44  Ah,  bah!  do  you  believe  that?  look  at  nvy  uncle 
Borniche-IIerau.  You  have  heard  of  Mademoiselle 
Ganivet?  she  was  as  ugly  as  the  seven  capital  sins,  but 


The  Two  Brothers.  183 

for  all  that,  she  got  three  thousand  francs  a  3*ear  out  of 
him." 

4k  Yes,  but  that  was  in  1778." 

M  Still,  Rouget  is  making  a  mistake.  His  father  left 
him  a  good  forty  thousand  francs'  income,  and  he  ought 
to  many  Mademoiselle  Herau." 

44  The  doctor  tried  to  arrange  it,  but  she  would  not 
consent ;  Jean-Jacques  is  so  stupid  —  " 

4  4  Stupid !  why  women  are  very  happy  with  that 
style  of  man." 

44  Is  your  wife  happy  ?  " 

Such  was  the  sort  of  tattle  that  ran  through  Issou- 
dun.  If  people,  following  the  use  and  wont  of  the 
provinces,  began  by  laughing  at  this  quasi-marriage, 
they  ended  b}T  praising  Flore  for  devoting  herself  to 
the  poor  fellow.  We  now  see  how  it  was  that  Flore 
Brazier  obtained  the  management  of  the  Rouget  house- 
hold, —  from  father  to  son,  as  }Toung  Goddet  had  said. 
It  is  desirable  to  sketch  the  history  of  that  management 
for  the  edification  of  old  bachelors. 

Fanchette,  the  cook,  was  the  only  person  in  Issoudun 
who  thought  it  wrong  that  Flore  Brazier  should  be 
queen  over  Jean-Jacques  Rouget  and  his  home.  She 
protested  against  the  immorality  of  the  connection,  and 
took  a  tone  of  injured  virtue  ;  the  fact  being  that  she 
was  humiliated  by  having,  at  her  age,  a  crab-girl  for  a 
mistress,  —  a  child  who  had  been  brought  barefoot  into 
the  house.  Fanchette  owned  three  hundred  francs  a 
year  in  the  Funds,  for  the  doctor  had  made  her  invest 
her  savings  in  that  way,  and  he  had  left  her  as  much 
more  in  an  annuitj- ;  she  could  therefore  live  at  her 
ease  without  the  necessity  of  working,  and  she  quitted 
the    house  nine   months    after  the  funeral   of  her  old 


184  The  Two  Brothers. 

master,  April  15,  1806.  That  date  may  indicate,  to  a 
perspicacous  observer,  the  epoch  at  which  Flore  Brazier 
ceased  to  be  an  honest  girl. 

The  Rabouilleuse,  clever  enough  to  foresee  Fan- 
chette's  probable  defection, — there  is  nothing  like  the 
exercise  of  power  for  teaching  policy,  —  was  already 
resolved  to  do  without  a  servant.  For  six  months  she 
had  studied,  without  seeming  to  do  so,  the  culinarj'  op- 
erations that  made  Fanchette  a  cordon-bleu  worthy  of 
cooking  for  a  doctor.  In  the  matter  of  choice  living,  doc- 
tors are  on  a  par  with  bishops.  The  doctor  had  brought 
Fanchette's  talents  to  perfection.  In  the  provinces  the 
lack  of  occupation  and  the  monotony  of  existence  turn 
all  activity  of  mind  towards  the  kitchen.  People  do  not 
dine  as  luxuriously  in  the  country  as  they  do  in  Paris, 
but  they  dine  better  ;  the  dishes  are  meditated  upon  and 
studied.  In  rural  regions  we  often  find  some  Careme 
in  petticoats,  some  unrecognized  genius  able  to  serve  a 
simple  dish  of  haricot-beans  worthy  of  the  nod  with 
which  Rossini  welcomed  a  perfectly-rendered  measure. 

When  studying  for  his  degree  in  Paris,  the  doctor 
had  followed  a  course  of  chemistry  under  Rouelle,  and 
had  gathered  some  ideas  which  he  afterwards  put  to 
use  in  the  chemistry  of  cooking.  His  memory  is  famous 
in  Issoudun  for  certain  improvements  little  known  out- 
side of  Berry.  It  was  he  who  discovered  that  an  ome- 
let is  far  more  delicate  when  the  whites  and  the  yolks 
are  not  beaten  together  with  the  violence  which  cooks 
usually  put  into  the  operation.  He  considered  that  the 
whites  should  be  beaten  to  a  froth  and  the  }'olks  gentty 
added  b\r  degrees  ;  moreover  a  frying-pan  should  never 
be  used,  but  a  "  cagnard"  of  porcelain  or  earthenware. 
The  cagnard  is  a  species  of  thick  dish  standing  on  four 


The  Two  Brothers.  185 

feet,  so  that  when  it  is  placed  on  the  stove  the  air  cir- 
culates underneath  and  prevents  the  fire  from  cracking 
it.  In  Touraine  the  cagnard  is  called  a  cauquemarre. 
Rabelais,  I  think,  speaks  of  a  cauquemarre  for  cooking 
cockatrice  eggs,  thus  proving  the  antiquity  of  the  uten- 
sil. The  doctor  had  also  found  a  wa}T  to  prevent  the 
tartness  of  browned  butter ;  but  this  secret,  which  un- 
luckily he  kept  to  his  own  kitchen,  has  been  lost. 

Flore,  a  born  fryer  and  roaster,  two  qualities  that 
can  never  be  acquired  hy  observation  nor  jTet  by  labor, 
soon  surpassed  Fanchette.  In  making  herself  a  cordon- 
bleu  she  was  thinking  of  Jean-Jacques's  comfort ; 
though  she  was,  it  must  be  owned,  tolerably  daint}'. 
Incapable,  like  all  persons  without  education,  of  doing 
an3rtliing  with  her  brains,  she  spent  her  activity  upon 
household  matters.  She  rubbed  up  the  furniture  till 
it  shone,  and  kept  everything  about  the  house  in  a 
state  of  cleanliness  worthy  of  Holland.  She  managed 
the  avalanches  of  soiled  linen  and  the  floods  of  water 
that  go  by  the  name  of  "  the  wash,"  which  was  done, 
according  to  provincial  usage,  three  times  a  year.  She 
kept  a  housewifely  eye  to  the  linen,  and  mended  it 
carefulty.  Then,  desirous  of  learning  little  by  little 
the  secrets  of  the  family  property,  she  acquired  the 
very  limited  business  knowledge  which  Rouget  pos- 
sessed, and  increased  it  by  conversations  with  the 
notary  of  the  late  doctor,  Monsieur  Heron.  Thus  in- 
structed, she  gave  excellent  advice  to  her  little  Jean- 
Jacques.  Sure  of  being  always  mistress,  she  was  as 
eager  and  solicitous  about  the  old  bachelor's  interests 
as  if  the}'  had  been  her  own.  She  was  not  obliged  to 
guard  against  the  exactions  of  her  uncle,  for  two 
months  before  the  doctor's  death  Brazier  died  of  a  fall, 


186  The  Two  Brothers. 

as  he  was  leaving  a  wine-shop,  where,  since  his  rise  in 
fortune,  he  spent  most  of  his  time.  Flore  had  also  lost 
her  father :  thus  she  served  her  master  with  all  the 
affection  which  an  orphan,  thankful  to  make  herself  a 
home  and  a  settlement  in  life,  would  naturally  feel. 

This  period  of  his  life  was  paradise  to  poor  Jean- 
Jacques,  who  now  acquired  the  gentle  habits  of  an 
animal,  trained  into  a  sort  of  monastic  regularitj-.  He 
slept  late.  Flore,  who  was  up  at  daybreak  attending 
to  her  housekeeping,  woke  him  so  that  he  should 
find  his  breakfast  ready  as  soon  as  he  had  finished 
dressing.  After  breakfast,  about  eleven  o'clock,  Jean- 
Jacques  went  to  walk ;  talked  with  the  people  he  met, 
and  came  home  at  three  in  the  afternoon  to  read  the 
papers,  —  those  of  the  department,  and  a  journal  from 
Paris  which  he  received  three  days  after  publication, 
well  greased  b}7  the  thirty  hands  through  which  it  came, 
browned  by  the  snuffy  noses  that  had  pored  over  it, 
and  soiled  by  the  various  tables  on  which  it  had  lain. 
The  old  bachelor  thus  got  through  the  day  until  it  was 
time  for  dinner ;  over  that  meal  he  spent  as  much 
time  as  it  was  possible  to  give  to  it.  Flore  told  him 
the  news  of  the  town,  repeating  the  cackle  that  was 
current,  which  she  had  carefully  picked  up.  Towards 
eight  o'clock  the  lights  were  put  out.  Going  to  bed 
earlv  is  a  saving  of  fire  and  candles  very  commonly 
practised  in  the  provinces,  which  contributes  no  doubt 
to  the  empt}T-mindedness  of  the  inhabitants.  Too  much 
sleep  dulls  and  weakens  the  brain. 

Such  was  the  life  of  these  two  persons  during  a 
period  of  nine  years,  the  great  events  of  which  were 
a  few  journeys  to  Bourges,  Vierzon,  Chateauroux,  or 
somewhat  farther,  if  the  notaries  of  those  towns  and 


The  Two  Brothers.  187 

Monsieur  Heron  had  no  investments  ready  for  accept- 
ance. Rouget  lent  his  money  at  five  per  cent  on  a  first 
mortgage,  with  release  of  the  wife's  rights  in  case 
the  owner  was  married.  He  never  lent  more  than  a 
third  of  the  value  of  the  property,  and  required  notes 
payable  to  his  order  for  an  additional  interest  of  two 
and  a  half  per  cent  spread  over  the  whole  duration  of 
the  loan.  Such  were  the  rules  his  father  had  told  him 
to  follow.  Usu^,  that  clog  upon  the  ambition  of  the 
peasantry,  is  the  destroyer  of  country  regions.  This 
lev}7  of  seven  and  a  half  per  cent  seemed,  therefore,  so 
reasonable  to  the  borrowers  that  Jean-Jacques  Rouget 
had  his  choice  of  investments ;  and  the  notaries  of  the 
different  towns,  who  got  a  fine  commission  for  them- 
selves from  clients  for  whom  they  obtained  money  on 
such  good  terms,  gave  due  notice  to  the  old  bachelor. 

During  these  nine  years  Flore  obtained  in  the  long 
run,  insensibly  and  without  aiming  for  it,  an  absolute 
control  over  her  master.  From  the  first,  she  treated 
him  \evy  familiarly ;  then,  without  failing  in  proper 
respect,  she  so  far  surpassed  him  in  superiority  of  mind 
and  force  of  character  that  he  became  in  fact  the  ser- 
vant of  his  servant.  Elderly  child  that  he  was,  he  met 
this  mastery  half-wa}'  by  letting  Flore  take  such  care  of 
him  that  she  treated  him  more  as  a  mother  would  a  son  ; 
and  he  himself  ended  by  clinging  to  her  with  the  feel- 
ing of  a  child  dependent  on  a  mother's  protection. 
But  there  were  other  ties  between  them  not  less  tightly 
knotted.  In  the  first  place,  Flore  kept  the  house  and 
managed  all  its  business.  Jean-Jacques  left  everything 
to  the  crab-girl  so  completely  that  life  without  her  would 
have  seemed  to  him  not  only  difficult,  but  impossible. 
In  every  way,  this  woman  had  become  the  one  need  of 


188  The  Two  Brothers. 

his  existence  ;  she  indulged  all  his  fancies,  for  she  knew 
them  well.  He  loved  to  see  her  bright  face  always 
smiling  at  him,  — the  only  face  that  had  ever  smiled  upon 
him,  the  onh'  one  to  which  he  could  look  for  a  smile. 
This  happiness,  a  purely  material  happiness,  expressed 
in  the  homely  words  which  come  readiest  to  the  tongue 
in  a  Berrichon  household,  and  visible  on  the  fine  coun- 
tenance- of  the  j'oiing  woman,  was  like  a  reflection  of  his 
own  inward  content.  The  state  ink)  which  Jean-Jacques 
was  thrown  when  Flore's  brightness  was  clouded  over 
by  some  passing  anno3*ance  revealed  to  the  girl  her 
power  over  him,  and,  to  make  sure  of  it,  she  sometimes 
liked  to  use  it.  Using  such  power  means,  with  women 
of  her  class,  abusing  it.  The  Rabouilleuse,  no  doubt, 
made  her  master  pla}T  some  of  those  scenes  buried  in 
the  mysteries  of  private  life,  of  which  Otway  gives  a 
specimen  in  the  tragedy  of  "  Venice  Preserved,"  where 
the  scene  between  the  senator  and  Aquilina  is  the  reali- 
zation of  the  magnificently  horrible.  Flore  felt  so  se- 
cure of  her  power  that,  unfortunately  for  her,  and  for 
the  bachelor  himself,  it  did  not  occur  to  her  to  make 
him  marry  her. 

Towards  the  close  of  1815,  Flore,  who  was  then 
twenty-seven,  had  reached  the  perfect  development  of 
her  beauty.  Plump  and  fresh,  and  white  as  a  Norman 
countrywoman,  she  was  the  ideal  of  what  our  ancestors 
used  to  call  "  a  buxom  housewife."  Her  beauty,  al- 
ways that  of  a  handsome  barmaid,  though  higher  in  type 
and  better  kept,  gave  her  a  likeness  to  Mademoiselle 
George  in  her  palmjT  daj's,  setting  aside  the  latter's  im- 
perial dignity.  Flore  had  the  dazzling  white  round 
arms,  the  ample  modelling,  the  satiny  texture  of  the 
skin,  the  alluring  though  less  rigidly  correct  outlines  of 


8  ot 


The  Two  Brothers.  189 

the  great  actress.  Her  expression  was  one  of  sweetness 
and  tenderness  ;  but  her  glance  commanded  less  respect 
than  that  of  the  noblest  Agrippina  that  ever  trod  the 
French  stage  since  the  days  of  Racine  :  on  the  contrary, 
it  evoked  a  vulgar  J03-.  In  1816  the  Rabouilleuse  saw 
Maxence  Gilet,  and  fell  in  love  with  him  at  first  sight. 
Her  heart  was  cleft  by  the  mythological  arrow,  —  ad- 
mirable description  of  an  effect  of  nature  which  the 
Greeks,  unable  to  conceive  the  chivalric,  ideal,  and 
melancholy  love  begotten  of  Christianity,  could  repre- 
sent in  no  other  way.  Flore  was  too  handsome  to  be 
disdained,  and  Max  accepted  his  conquest. 

Thus,  at  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  the  Rabouilleuse 
felt  for  the  first  time  a  true  love,  an  idolatrous  love,  the 
love  which  includes  all  ways  of  loving,  —  that  of  Gul- 
nare  and  that  of  Meclora.  As  soon  as  the  penniless  of- 
ficer found  out  the  respective  situations  of  Flore  and 
Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  he  saw  something  more  desirable 
than  an  amourette  in  an  intimac}-  with  the  Rabouilleuse. 
He  asked  nothing  better  for  his  future  prosperity  than 
to  take  up  his  abode  at  Rouget's,  recognizing  perfectly 
the  feeble  nature  of  the  old  bachelor.  Flore's  passion 
necessarily  affected  the  life  and  household  affairs  of  her 
master.  For  a  month  the  old  man,  now  grown  ex- 
cessively timid,  saw  the  laughing  and  kindly  face  of  his 
mistress  change  to  something  terrible  and  gloomy  and 
sullen.  He  was  made  to  endure  flashes  of  angry  temper 
purposely  displaj-ed,  precisely  like  a  married  man  whose 
wife  is  meditating  an  infidelity.  When,  after  some 
cruel  rebuff,  he  nerved  himself  to  ask  Flore  the  reason 
of  the  change,  her  eyes  were  so  full  of  hatred,  and  her 
voice  so  aggressive  and  contemptuous,  that  the  poor 
creature  quailed  under  them. 


190  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  she  cried  ;  "  you  have  neither  heart 
nor  soul !  Here 's  sixteen  years  that  I  have  spent  my 
youth  in  this  house,  and  I  have  only  just  found  out  that 
you  have  got  a  stone  there  (striking  her  breast). 
For  two  months  you  have  seen  before  your  eyes  that 
brave  captain,  a  victim  of  the  Bourbons,  who  was  cut 
out  for  a  general,  and  is  down  in  the  depths  of  poverty, 
hunted  into  a  hole  of  a  place  where  there  's  no  way  to 
make  a  penn}T  of  mone\T !  He  's  forced  to  sit  on  a  stool 
all  day  in  the  mayor's  office  to  earn  —  what?  Six  hun- 
dred miserable  francs,  —  a  fine  thing,  indeed  !  And 
here  are  3-011,  with  six  hundred  and  fifty-nine  thousand 
well  invested,  and  sixty  thousand  francs'  income,  — 
thanks  to  me,  who  never  spend  more  than  three  thou- 
sand a  year,  everything  included,  even  m}T  own  clothes, 
yes,  everj'thing !  —  and  you  never  think  of  offering  him 
a  home  here,  though  there  's  the  second  floor  empty ! 
You  'd  rather  the  rats  and  mice  ran  riot  in  it  than  put 
a  human  being  there,  —  and  he  a  lad  your  father  al- 
waj-s  allowed  to  be  his  own  son !  Do  you  want  to 
know  what  you  are  ?  I '11  tell  you,  —  a  fratricide  !  And 
I  know  why,  too.  You  see  I  take  an  interest  in  him,  and 
that  provokes  you.  Stupid  as  you  seem,  you  have  got 
more  spite  in  }Tou  than  the  spitefullest  of  men.  Well, 
yes  !    I  do  take  an  interest  in  him,  and  a  keen  one  —  " 

4 'But,  Flore  —  " 

"  « But,  Flore,'  indeed  !  What 's  that  got  to  do  with 
it?  You  may  go  and  find  another  Flore  (if  you  can  !), 
for  I  hope  this  glass  of  wine  may  poison  me  if  I  don't 
get  away  from"  .your  dungeon  of  a  house.  I  have  n't, 
God  be  thanked !  cost  you  one  penny  during  the  twelve 
years  I  've  been  with  you,  and  you  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  nry  company  into  the  bargain.     1  could  have  earned 


The  Two  Brothers.  191 

my  own  living  anywhere  with  the  work  that  I  've  done 
here,  —  washing,  ironing,  looking  after  the  linen,  going 
to  market,  cooking,  taking  care  of  your  interests  before 
everything,  slaving  myself  to  death  from  morning  till 
night,  —  and  this  is  my  reward  !  " 
"But,  Flore  —  " 

44  Oh, yes,  '  Flore'  !  find  another  Flore,  if  }tou  can,  at 
your  time  of  life,  fifty-one  years  old,  and  getting  feeble, 
—  for  the  way  your  health  is  failing  is  frightful,  I  know 
that !  and  besides,  you  are  none  too  amusing  —  " 
M  But,  Flore  —  " 
"  Let  me  alone!  " 

She'  went  out,  slamming  the  door  with  a  violence  that 
echoed  through  the  house,  and  seemed  to  shake  it  to 
its  foundations.  Jean-Jacques  softly  opened  the  door 
and  went,  still  more  softly,  into  the  kitchen  where  she 
was  muttering  to  herself. 

44  But,  Flore,"  said  the  poor  sheep,  "  this  is  the  first 
time  I  have  heard  of  this  wish  of  yours ;  how  do  you 
know  whether  I  will  agree  to  it  or  not?  " 

4k  In  the  first  place,"  she  said,  "  there  ought  to  be  a 
man  in  the  house.  Everybody  knows  you  have  ten, 
fifteen,  twenty  thousand  francs  here ;  if  the}7  came  to 
rob  you  we  should  both  be  murdered.  For  m}T  part,  I 
don't  care  to  wake  up  some  fine  morning  chopped  in 
quarters,  as  happened  to  that  poor  servant-girl  who  was 
silly  enough  to  defend  her  master.  Well !  if  the  robbers 
knew  there  was  a  man  in  the  house  as  brave  as  Caesar 
and  who  was  n't  born  yesterda}*,  —  for  Max  could  swal- 
low three  burglars  as  quick  as  a  flash,  —  well,  then  I 
should  sleep  eas\\  People  may  tell  you  a  lot  of  stuff, 
—  that  I  love  him,  that  I  adore  him,  —  and  some  say 
this  and  some  say  that !     Do  you  know  what  you  ought 


192  Tfte  Two  Brothers. 

to  say  ?  You  ought  to  answer  that  you  know  it ;  that 
your  father  told  3*011  on  his  deathbed  to  take  care  of 
his  poor  Max.  That  will  stop  people's  tongues ;  for 
every  stone  in  Issoudun  can  tell  you  he  paid  Max's 
schooling  —  and  so!  Here's  nine  years  that  I  have 
eaten  your  bread  —  " 

"Flore, —Flore!" 

44  —  and  many  a  one  in  this  town  has  paid  court  to 
me,  I  can  tell  you  !  Gold  chains  here,  and  watches 
there,  — what  don't  they  offer  me?  -  My  little  Flore,' 
they  say,  -  why  won't  3*ou  leave  that  old  fool  of  a 
Rouget ' — for  that's  what  they  call  you.  -I  leave 
him  ! '  I  always  answer,  -  a  poor  innocent  like  that?  I 
think  I  see  myself!  what  would  become  of  him?  No, 
no,  where  the  kid  is  tethered,  let  her  browse  — '  " 

44  Yes,  Flore;  I've  none  but  you  in  this  world,  and 
3tou  make  me  happ3*.  If  it  will  give  30U  pleasure, 
my  dear,  well,  we  will  have  Maxence  Gilet  here  ;  he 
can  eat  with  us  —  " 

44  Heavens  !  I  should  hope  so  !  " 

14  There,  there  !  don't  get  angi'3*  —  " 

44  Enough  for  one  is  enough  for  two,"  she  answered 
laughing.  44 1  '11  tell  you  what  you  can  do,  my  lamb, 
if  3'ou  realty  mean  to  be  kind ;  3*011  must  go  and 
walk  up  and  down  near  the  Mayor's  office  at  four 
o'clock,  and  manage  to  meet  Monsieur  Gilet  and  invite 
him  to  dinner.  If  he  makes  excuses,  tell  him  it  will 
give  me  pleasure  ;  he  is  too  polite  to  refuse.  And  after 
dinner,  at  dessert,  if  he  tells  3*ou  about  his  misfortunes, 
and  the  hulks  and  so  forth  —  for  3*ou  can  easity  get  him 
to  talk  about  all  that  —  then  3*ou  can  make  him  the  offer 
to  come  and  live  here.  If  he  makes  any  objection, 
never  mind,  I  shall  know  how  to  settle  it." 


The  Two  Brothers.  193 

Walking  slowly  along  the  boulevard  Baron,  the  old 
celibate  reflected,  as  much  as  he  had  the  mind  to  reflect, 
over  this  incident.  If  he  were  to  part  from  Flore  (the 
mere  thought  confused  him)  where  could  he  find  an- 
other woman  ?  Should  he  marry  ?  At  his  age  he  should 
be  married  for  his  money,  and  a  legitimate  wife  would 
use  him  far  more  cruelly  than  Flore.  Besides,  the 
thought  of  being  deprived  of  her  tenderness,  even  if  it 
were  a  mere  pretence,  caused  him  horrible  anguish.  He 
was  therefore  as  polite  to  Captain  Gilet  as  he  knew  how 
to  be.  The  invitation  was  given,  as  Flore  had  re- 
quested, before  witnesses,  to  guard  the  hero's  honor 
from  all  suspicion. 

A  reconciliation  took  place  between  Flore  and  her 
master ;  but  from  that  day  forth  Jean-Jacques  noticed 
many  a  trifle  that  betokened  a  total  change  in  his  mis- 
tress's affections.  For  two  or  three  weeks  Flore  Brazier 
complained  to  the  tradespeople  in  the  markets,  and  to 
the  women  with  whom  she  gossiped,  about  Monsieur 
Rouget's  tyranny,  —  how  he  had  taken  it  into  his  head 
to  invite  his  self-styled  natural  brother  to  live  with  him. 
No  one,  however,  was  taken  in  by  this  corned}* ;  and 
Flore  was  looked  upon  as  a  wonderfully  clever  and 
artful  creature.  Old  Rouget  really  found  himself  very 
comfortable  after  Max  became  the  master  of  his  house  ; 
for  he  thus  gained  a  companion  who  paid  him  many  at- 
tentions, without,  however,  showing  any  servility.  Gilet 
talked,  discussed  politics,  and  sometimes  went  to  walk 
with  Rouget.  After  Max  was  fairly  installed,  Flore  did 
not  choose  to  do  the  cooking ;  she  said  it  spoiled  her 
hands.  At  the  request  of  the  grand  master  of  the  Order 
of  the  Knights  of  Idleness,  Mere  Cognette  produced  one 
of  her  relatives,  an  old  maid  whose  master,  a  curate,  had 

13 


194  The  Two  Brothers. 

lately  died  without  leaving  her  anything,  —  an  excellent 
cook,  withal, — who  declared  she  would  devote  herself 
for  life  or  death  to  MaxTand  Flore.  In  the  name  of 
the  two  powers,  Mere  Cognette  promised  her  an  annuity 
of  three  hundred  francs  a  3-ear  at  the  end  of  ten  3-ears, 
if  she  served  them  kn'ally,  honestly,  and  discreetly. 
The  Vedie,  as  she  was  called,  was  noticeable  for  a  face 
deeply  pitted  by  the   small-pox,   and  correspondingly 

ugly. 

After  the  new  cook  had  entered  upon  her  duties,  the 
Rabouilleuse  took  the  title  of  Madame  Brazier.  She 
wore  corsets ;  she  had  silk,  or  handsome  woollen  and 
cotton  dresses,  according  to  the  season,  expensive  neck- 
erchiefs, embroidered  caps  and  collars,  lace  ruffles  at  her 
throat,  boots  instead  of  shoes,  and,  altogether,  adopted 
a  richness  and  elegance  of  apparel  which  renewed  the 
youthful ness  of  her  appearance.  She  was  like  a  rougli 
diamond,  that  needed  cutting  and  mounting  by  a  jew- 
eller to  bring  out  its  full  value.  Her  desire  was  to  do 
honor  to  Max.  At  the  end  of  the  first  }Tear,  in  1817, 
she  brought  a  horse,  st}ied  English,  from  Bourges,  for 
the  poor  cavalry  captain,  who  was  weary  of  going 
afoot.  Max  had  picked  up  in  the  purlieus  of  Issou- 
dun  an  old  lancer  of  the  Imperial  Guard,  a  Pole  named 
Kouski,  now  very  poor,  who  asked  nothing  better  than 
to  quarter  himself  in  Monsieur  Rouget's  house  as  the 
captain's  servant.  Max  was  Kouski's  idol,  especially 
after  the  duel  with  the  three  royalists.  So,  from  1817, 
the  household  of  the  old  bachelor  was  made  up  of  five 
persons,  three  of  whom  were  masters,  and  the  expenses 
advanced  to  about  eight  thousand  francs  a  year. 


The  Two  Brothers.  195 


X. 


At  the  time  when  Madame  Bridau  returned  to  Issou- 
dun  to  save  —  as  Maitre  Desroches  expressed  it  — 
an  inheritance  that  was  seriously  threatened,  Jean- 
Jacques  Rouget  had  reached  by  degrees  a  condition 
that  was  semi-vegetative.  In  the  first  place,  after 
Max's  instalment,  Flore  put  the  table  on  an  episcopal 
footing.  Rouget,  thrown  in  the  wa}^  of  good  living, 
ate  more  and  still  more,  enticed  by  the  Vedie's  excel- 
lent dishes.  He  grew  no  fatter,  however,  in  spite  of 
this  abundant  and  luxurious  nourishment.  From  day 
to  day  he  weakened  like  a  worn-out  man, — fatigued, 
perhaps,  with  the  effort  of  digestion,  —  and  his  eyes 
had  dark  circles  around  them.  Still,  when  his  friends 
and  neighbors  met  him  in  his  walks  and  questioned 
him  about  his  health,  he  always  answered  that  he  was 
never  better  in  his  life.  As  he  had  always  been 
thought  extremely  deficient  in  mind,  people  did  not 
notice  the  constant  lowering  of  his  faculties.  His  love 
for  Flore  was  the  one  thing  that  kept  him  alive ;  in 
fact,  he  existed  only  for  her,  and  his  weakness  in  her 
presence  was  unbounded ;  he  obeyed  the  creature's 
mere  look,  and  watched  her  movements  as  a  dog 
watches  every  gesture  of  his  master.  In  short,  as 
Madame  Hochon  remarked,  at  fifty-seven  years  of 
age    he    seemed    older    than   Monsieur    Hochon,    an 


196  The  Two  Brothers. 

Every  one  will  suppose,  and  with  reason,  that  Max's 
appartement  was  worthy  of  so  charming  a  fellow.  In 
fact,  in  the  course  of  six  years  our  captain  had  by 
degrees  perfected  the  comfort  of  his  abode  and  adorned 
every  detail  of  it,  as  much  for  his  own  pleasure  as  for 
Flore's.  But  it  was,  after  all,  only  the  comfort  and 
luxury  of  Issoudun,  —  colored  tiles,  rather  elegant  wall- 
papers, mahogany  furniture,  mirrors  in  gilt  frames, 
muslin  curtains  with  red  borders,  a  bed  with  a  canopy, 
and  draperies  arranged  as  the  provincial  upholsterers 
arrange  them  for  a  rich  bride ;  which  in  the  eyes  of 
Issoudun  seemed  the  height  of  luxury,  but  are  so  com- 
mon in  vulgar  fashion-plates  that  even  the  petty  shop- 
keepers in  Paris  have  discarded  them  at  their  weddings. 
One  very  unusual  thing  appeared,  which  caused  much 
talk  in  Issoudun,  namely,  a  rush-matting  on  the  stairs,  no 
doubt  to  muffle  the  sound  of  feet.  In  fact,  though  Max 
was  in  the  habit  of  coming  in  at  daybreak,  he  never 
woke  any  one,  and  Rouget  was  far  from  suspecting 
that  his  guest  was  an  accomplice  in  the  nocturnal  per- 
formances of  the  Knights  of  Idleness. 

About  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning,  Flore,  wear- 
ing a  dressing-gown  of  some  pretty  cotton  stuff  with 
narrow  pink  stripes,  a  lace  cap  on  her  head,  and  her 
feet  in  furred  slippers,  softly  opened  the  door  of  Max's 
chamber ;  seeing  that  he  slept,  she  remained  standing 
beside  the  bed. 

"  He  came  in  so  late!"  she  said  to  herself.  "  It 
was  half-past  three.  He  must  have  a  good  constitution 
to  stand  such  amusements.  Is  n't  he  strong,  the  dear 
love !     I  wonder  what  they  did  last  night." 

"Oh,  there  you  are,  my  little  Flore!"  said  Max, 
waking  like  a  soldier  trained  by  the  necessities  of  war 


The  Two  Brothers.  197 

to  have  his  wits  and  his  self-possession  about  him  the  in- 
stant that  he  waked,  however  suddenly  it  might  happen. 

M  You  are  sleepy  ;  I  '11  go  away." 

44  No,  stay  ;  there  's  something  serious  going  on." 

44  Were  }rou  up  to  some  mischief  last  night?" 

%'Ah,  bah!  It  concerns  you  and  me  and  that  old 
fool.  You  never  told  me  he  had  a  family !  Well,  his 
family  are  coming,  —  coming  here,  —  no  doubt  to  turn 
us  out,  neck  and  crop." 

44  Ah !  I  '11  shake  him  well,"  said  Flore. 

44  Mademoiselle  Brazier,"  said  Max  gravely,  "  things 
are  too  serious  for  giddiness.  Send  me  my  coffee ; 
I'll  take  it  in  bed,  where  I'll  think  over  what  we  had 
better  do.  Come  back  at  nine  o'clock,  and  we  '11  talk 
about  it.  Meantime,  behave  as  if  you  had  heard 
nothing." 

Frightened  at  the  news,  Flore  left  Max  and  went  to 
make  his  coffee  ;  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  Baruch 
burst  into  Max's  bedroom,  crying  out  to  the  grand 
master,  — 

44  Fario  is  hunting  for  his  barrow  !  " 

In  five  minutes  Max  was  dressed  and  in  the  street ; 
and  though  he  sauntered  along  with  apparent  indiffer- 
ence, he  soon  reached  the  foot  of  the  tower  embank- 
ment, where  he  found  quite  a  collection  of  people. 

44  What  is  it?"  asked  Max,  making  his  way  through 
the  crowd  and  reaching  the  Spaniard. 

Fario  was  a  withered  little  man,  as  ugly  as  though 
he  were  a  blue-blooded  grandee.  His  fiery  eyes,  placed 
very  close  to  his  nose  and  piercing  as  a  gimlet,  would 
have  won  him  the  name  of  a  sorcerer  in  Naples.  He 
seemed  gentle  because  he  was  calm,  quiet,  and  slow  in 
his  movements ;  and  for  this  reason  people  commonly 


198  The  Two  Brothers. 

called  him  "  goodman  Fario."  But  his  skin  —  the 
color  of  gingerbread  —  and  his  softness  of  manner  only 
hid  from  stupid  eyes,  and  disclosed  to  observing  ones, 
the  half-Moorish  nature  of  a  peasant  of  Granada, 
which  nothing  had  as  yet  roused  from  its  phlegmatic 
indolence. 

44  Are  you  sure,"  Max  said  to  him,  after  listening  to  his 
grievance,  "  that  you  brought  your  cart  to  this  place? 
for,  thank  God,  there  are  no  thieves  in  Issoudun." 

"Heft  it  just  there  — " 

44  If  the  horse  was  harnessed  to  it,  has  n't  he  drawn 
it  somewhere  ?  " 

44  Here  's  the  horse,"  said  Fario,  pointing  to  the  ani- 
mal, which  stood  harnessed  thirty  feet  away. 

Max  went  gravely  up  to  the  place  where  the  horse 
stood,  because  from  there  the  bottom  of  the  tower  at 
the  top  of  the  embankment  could  be  seen,  —  the  crowd 
being  at  the  foot  of  the  mound.  Everybody  followed 
Max,  and  that  was  what  the  rascal  wanted. 

44  Has  anybody  thoughtlessly  put  a  cart  in  his 
pocket?"  cried  Francois. 

"  Turn  out  3'our  pockets,  all  of  30U  !  "  said  Baruch. 

Shouts  of  laughter  resounded  on  all  sides.  Fario 
swore.  Oaths,  with  a  Spaniard,  denote  the  highest 
pitch  of  anger. 

44  Was  your  cart  light?  "  asked  Max. 

44  Light !  "  cried  Fario.  44  If  those  who  laugh  at  me 
had  it  on  their  feet,  their  corns  would  never  hurt  them 
again." 

44  Well,  it  must  be  devilishly  light,"  answered  Max, 
44  for  look  there!  "  pointing  to  the  foot  of  the  tower; 
44  it  has  flown  up  the  embankment." 

At  these  words  all  eyes  were  lifted  to  the  spot,  and 


The  Two  Brothers.  199 

for  a  moment  there  was  a  perfect  uproar  in  the  market- 
place. Each  man  pointed  at  the  barrow  bewitched, 
and  all  their  tongues  wagged. 

"  The  devil  makes  common  cause  with  the  inn- 
keepers," said  Goddet  to  the  astonished  Spaniard. 
tk  He  means  to  teach  3011  not  to  leave  your  cart  about 
in  the  streets,  but  to  put  it  in  the  tavern  stables." 

At  this  speech  the  crowd  hooted,  for  Fario  was 
thought  to  be  a  miser. 

"Come,  my  good  fellow,"  said  Max,  "don't  lose 
heart.  We  '11  go  up  to  the  tower  and  see  how  yonr 
barrow  got  there.  Thunder  and  cannon !  we  '11  lend 
you  a  hand !     Come  along,  Baruch. 

"As  for  you,"  he  whispered  to  Francois,  "get  the 
people  to  stand  back,  and  make  sure  there  is  nobody  at 
the  foot  of  the  embankment  when  you  see  us  at  the 
top." 

Fario,  Max,  Baruch,  and  three  other  knights  climbed 
to  the  foot  of  the  tower.  During  the  rather  perilous 
ascent  Max  and  Fario  noticed  that  no  damage  to  the 
embankment,  nor  even  trace  of  the  passage  of  the 
barrow,  could  be  seen.  Fario  began  to  imagine  witch- 
craft, and  lost  his  head.  When  they  reached  the  top 
and  examined  into  the  matter,  it  realty  seemed  a  thing 
impossible  that  the  cart  had  got  there. 

"  How  shall  I  ever  get  it  down?"  said  the  Spaniard, 
whose  little  eyes  began  for  the  first  time  to  show  fear; 
while  his  swarthy  yellow  face,  which  seemed  as  if  it 
could  never  change  color,  whitened. 

"  How  ?  "  said  Max.     "  Why,  that 's  not  difficult." 

And  taking  advantage  of  the  Spaniard's  stupefac- 
tion, he  raised  the  barrow  hy  the  shafts  with  his  robust 
arms  and  prepared  to  fling  it  down,  calling  in  thunder- 


IVERSITT 


200  The  Two  Brothers. 

ing  tones  as  it  left  his  grasp,  "  Look  out  there, 
below !  " 

No  accident  happened,  for  the  crowd,  persuaded  by 
Francois  and  eaten  up  with  curiosit}r,  had  retired  to  a 
distance  from  which  they  could  see  more  clearly  what 
went  on  at  the  top  of  the  embankment.  The  cart  was 
dashed  to  an  infinite  number  of  pieces  in  a  very  pic- 
turesque manner. 

14  There  !  you  have  got  it  down,"  said  Baruch. 

"  Ah,  brigands  !  ah,  scoundrels  !  "  cried  Fario  ;  "  per- 
haps it  was  you  who  brought  it  up  here  !  " 

Max,  Baruch,  and  their  three  comrades  began  to 
laugh  at  the  Spaniard's  rage. 

14  I  wanted  to  do  you  a  service,"  said  Max  cooll}', 
"  and  in  handling  the  damned  thing  I  came  verj*  near 
flinging  nryself  after  it ;  and  this  is  how  you  thank  me, 
is  it  ?    What  country  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  I  come  from  a  country  where  the}'  never  forgive," 
replied  Fario,  trembling  with  rage.  "  My  cart  will  be 
the  cab  in  which  you  shall  drive  to  the  devil !  —  unless," 
he  said,  suddenly  becoming  as  meek  as  a  lamb,  "  you 
will  give  me  a  new  one." 

"We  will  talk  about  that,"  said  Max,  beginning  to 
descend. 

When  they  reached  the  bottom  and  met  the  first 
hilarious  group,  Max  took  Fario  by  a  button  of  his 
jacket  and  said  to  him,  — 

"  Yes,  my  good  Fario,  I  '11  give  you  a  magnificent 
cart,  if  you  will  give  me  two  hundred  and  fifty  francs ; 
but  I  won't  warrant  it  to  go,  like  this  one,  up  a  tower." 

At  this  last  jest  Fario  became  as  cool  as  though 
he  were  making  a  bargain. 

"  Damn  it! "  he  said,  "  give  me  the  wherewithal  to 


The  Two  Brothers.  201 

replace  my  barrow,  and  it  will  be  the  best  use  you  ever 
made  of  old  Rouget's  money." 

Max  turned  livid  ;  he  raised  his  formidable  fist  to 
strike  Fario ;  but  Barueh,  who  knew  that  the  blow 
would  descend  on  others  besides  the  Spaniard,  plucked 
the  latter  away  like  a  feather  and  whispered  to  Max, — 

"  Don't  commit  such  a  folly  !  " 

The  grand  master,  thus  called  to  order,  began  to 
laugh  and  said  to  Fario,  — 

"  If  I,  by  accident,  broke  your  barrow,  and  you  in 
return  try  to  slander  me,  we  are  quits." 

"Not  3'et,"  muttered  Fario.  "But  I  am  glad  to 
know  what  my  barrow  was  worth." 

"Ah,  Max,  you've  found  your  match!"  said  a 
spectator  of  the  scene,  who  did  not  belong  to  the  Order 
of  Idleness. 

"Adieu,  Monsieur  Gilet.  I  haven't  thanked  you 
yet  for  lending  me  a  hand,"  cried  the  Spaniard,  as  he 
kicked  the  sides  of  his  horse  and  disappeared  amid 
loud  hurrahs. 

"  We  will  keep  the  tires  of  the  wheels  for  you," 
shouted  a  wheelwright,  who  had  come  to  inspect  the 
damage  done  to  the  cart. 

One  of  the  shafts  was  sticking  upright  in  the  ground, 
as  straight  as  a  tree.  Max  stood  by,  pale  and  thought- 
ful, and  deeply  annoyed  by  Fario's  speech.  For  five 
days  after  this,  nothing  was  talked  of  in  Issoudun  but 
the  tale  of  the  Spaniard's  barrow ;  it  was  even  fated 
to  travel  abroad,  as  Goddet  remarked,  — -  for  it  went 
the  round  of  Berry,  where  the  speeches  of  Fario  and 
Max  were  repeated,  and  at  the  end  of  a  week  the  affair, 
greatly  to  the  Spaniard's  satisfaction,  was  still  the  talk 
of  the  three  departments   and   the  subject  of  endless 


202  The  Two  Brothers. 

gossip.  In  consequence  of  the  vindictive  Spaniard's 
terrible  speech,  Max  and  the  Rabouilleuse  became  the 
object  of  certain  comments  which  were  merely  whis- 
pered in  Issoudun,  though  they  were  spoken  aloud  in 
Bourges,  Vatan,  Vierzon,  and  Chateauroux.  Maxence 
Gilet  knew  enough  of  that  region  of  country  to  guess 
how  envenomed  such  comments  would  become. 

44  We  can't  stop  their  tongues,"  he  said  at  last. 
44  Ah  !    I  did  a  foolish  thing  !  " 

44  Max  !  "  said  Francois,  taking  his  arm.  4k  They  are 
coming  to-night." 

44  They!     Who!" 

44  The  Bridaus.  M3-  grandmother  has  just  had  a 
letter  from  her  goddaughter." 

44  Listen,  my  boy,"  said  Max  in  a  low  voice.  44  I 
have  been  thinking  deeply  of  this  matter.  Neither 
Flore  nor  I  ought  to  seem  opposed  to  the  Bridaus.  If 
these  heirs  are  to  be  got  rid  of,  it  is  for  cyou  Hochons  to 
drive  them  out  of  Issoudun.  Find  out  what  sort  of 
people  they  are.  To-morrow  at  Mere  Cognette's,  after 
I  've  taken  their  measure,  we  can  decide  what  is  to  be 
done,  and  how  we  can  set  your  grandfather  against 
them." 

44  The  Spaniard  found  the  flaw  in  Max's  armor," 
said  Baruch  to  his  cousin  Francois,  as  they  turned 
into  Monsieur  Hochon's  house  and  watched  their  com- 
rade entering  his  own  door. 

While  Max  was  thus  emploj'ed,  Flore,  in  spite  of 
her  friend's  advice,  was  unable  to  restrain  her  wrath ; 
and  without  knowing  whether  she  would  help  or  hinder 
Max's  plans,  she  burst  forth  upon  the  poor  bachelor. 
When  Jean-Jacques  incurred  the  anger  of  his  mistress, 
the  little  attentions  and  vulgar  fondlings  which  were  all 


The  Two  Brothers.  203 

his  Joy  were  suddenly  suppressed.  Flore  sent'  her 
master,  as  the  children  say,  into  disgrace.  No  more 
tender  glances,  no  more  of  the  caressing  little  words  in 
various  tones  with  which  she  decked  her  conversation, 
—  "  my  kitten,"  "  my  old  darling,"  •*-  my  bibi,"  "mj- 
rat,"  etc.  A  "you,"  cold  and  sharp  and  ironically  re- 
spectful, cut  like  the  blade  of  a  knife  through  the  heart 
of  the  miserable  old  bachelor.  The  M  you"  was  a  dec- 
laration of  war.  Instead  of  helping  the  poor  man  with 
his  toilet,  handing  him  what  he  wanted,  forestalling  his 
wishes,  looking  at  him  with  the  sort  of  admiration  which 
all  women  know  how  to  express,  and  which,  in  some 
cases,  the  coarser  it  is  the  better  it  pleases,  —  saying, 
for  instance,  "  You  look  as  fresh  as  a  rose  !  "  or,  "What 
health  you  have!"  "How  handsome  you  are,  my  old 
Jean !  "  —  in  short,  instead  of  entertaining  him  with 
the  lively  chatter  and  broad  jokes  in  which  he  de- 
lighted, Flore  left  him  to  dress  alone.  If  he  called  her, 
she  answered  from  the  foot  of  the  staircase,  "  I  can't 
do  everything  at  once ;  how  can  I  look  after  your 
breakfast  and  wait  upon  3*011  up  there?  Are  not  you 
big  enough  to  dress  your  own  self?" 

"Oh,  dear!  w*hat  have  I  done  to  displease  her?" 
the  old  man  asked  himself  that  morning,  as  he  got  one 
of  these  rebuffs  after  calling  for  his  shaving-water. 

"  Vedie,  take  up  the  hot  water,"  cried  Flore. 

"  Vedie !  "  exclaimed  the  poor  man,  stupefied  with 
fear  of  the  anger  that  was  crushing  him.  "Vedie, 
what  is  the  matter  with  Madame  this  morning?" 

Flore  Brazier  required  her  master  and  Vedie  and 
Kouski  and  Max  to  call  her  Madame. 

"  She  seems  to  have  heard  something  about  3*011 
which  is  n't  to  3*0111*  credit,"  answered  Vedie,  assuming 


204  The  Two  Brothers. 

an  air  of  deep  concern.  "  You  are  doing  wrong,  mon- 
sieur. I  'm  only  a  poor  servant-woman,  and  you  may 
sa}T  I  have  no  right  to  poke  my  nose  into  your  affairs ; 
but  I  do  say  30U  may  search  through  all  the  women  in 
the  world,  like  that  king  in  holy  Scripture,  and  you 
won't  find  the  equal  of  Madame.  You  ought  to  kiss 
the  ground  she  steps  on.  Goodness  !  if  you  make  her 
unhappy,  you  '11  only  spoil  30m*  own  life.  There  she 
is,  poor  thing,  with  her  eyes  full  of  tears." 

Vedie  left  the  poor  man  utterly  cast  down ;  he 
dropped  into  an  armchair  and  gazed  into  vacanc3r  like 
the  melancholy  imbecile  that  he  was,  and  forgot  to  shave. 
These  alternations  of  tenderness  and  severity  worked 
upon  this  feeble  creature  whose  onty  life  was  through 
his  amorous  fibre,  the  same  morbid  effect  which  great 
changes  from  tropical  heat  to  arctic  cold  produce  upon 
the  human  body.  It  was  a  moral  pleuris3',  which  wore 
him  out  like  a  physical  disease.  Flore  alone  could 
thus  affect  him  ;  for  to  her,  and  to  her  alone,  he  was  as 
good  as  he  was  foolish. 

"Well,  have  n't  30U  shaved  3'et?  "  she  said,  appear- 
ing at  his  door. 

Her  sudden  presence  made  the  old  man  start  vio- 
lentty  ;  and  from  being  pale  and  cast  down  he  grew  red 
for  an  instant,  without,  however,  daring  to  complain  of 
her  treatment. 

M  Your  breakfast  is  waiting,"  she  added.  "  You  can 
come  down  as  you  are,  in  dressing-gown  and  slippers ; 
for  you  '11  breakfast  alone,  I  can  tell  3*011." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer,  she  disappeared. 
To  make  him  breakfast  alone  was  the  punishment  he 
dreaded  most;  he  loved  to  talk  to  her  as  he  ate  his 
meals.     When  he  got  to  the  foot  of  the  staircase  he 


The  Two  Brothers.  205 

was  taken  with  a  fit  of  coughing ;  for  emotion  excited 
his  catarrh. 

"Cough  away!  "  said  Flore  in  the  kitchen,  without 
caring  whether  he  heard  her  or  not.  "  Confound  the 
old  wretch !  he  is  able  enough  to  get  over  it  without 
bothering  others.  If  he  coughs  up  his  soul,  it  will 
only  be  after  —  " 

Such  were  the  amenities  the  Rabouilleuse  addressed 
to  Rouget  when  she  was  angiy.  The  poor  man  sat 
down  in  deep  distress  at  a  corner  of  the  table  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  and  looked  at  his  old  furniture  and 
the  old  pictures  with  a  disconsolate  air. 

"  You  might  at  least  have  put  on  a  cravat,"  said 
Flore.  "  Do  you  think  it  is  pleasant  for  people  to  see 
such  a  neck  as  yours,  which  is  redder  and  more 
wrinkled  than  a  turkey's  ?  " 

"But  what  have  I  done?"  he  asked,  lifting  his  big 
light-green  eyes,  full  of  tears,  to  his  tormentor,  and 
trying  to  face  her  hard  countenance. 

"What  have  you  done?"  she  exclaimed.  "As  if 
you  did  n't  know?  Oh,  what  a  hypocrite  !  Your  sister 
Agathe  —  who  is  as  much  your  sister  as  T  am  sister  of 
the  tower  of  Issoudun,  if  one  's  to  believe  your  father, 
and  who  has  no  claim  at  all  upon  you  —  is  coming  here 
from  Paris  with  her  son,  a  miserable  two-penny  painter, 
to  see  you." 

"My  sister  and  my  nephews  coming  to  Issoudun!" 
he  said,  bewildered. 

"Oh,  yes!  play  the  surprised,  do;  try  to  make  me 
believe  you  did  n't  send  for  them  !  sewing  your  lies 
with  white  thread,  indeed!  Don't  fash  3'ourself;  we 
won't  trouble  your  Parisians  —  before  they  set  their  feet 
in  this  house,  we  shall  have  shaken  the  dust  of  it  off 


206  The  Two  Brothers. 

ours.  Max  and  I  will  be  gone,  never  to  return.  As 
for  your  will,  I  '11  tear  it  in  quarters  under  3'our  nose, 
and  to  your  very  beard  —  do  you  hear  ?  Leave  your 
property  to  your  family,  if  you  don't  think  we  are  your 
family  :  and  then  see  if  you  '11  be  loved  for  yourself  by 
a  lot  of  people  who  have  not  seen  you  for  thirty  years, 
—  who  in  fact  have  never  seen  }'ou  !  Is  it  that  sort  of 
sister  who  can  take  my  place?    A  pinchbeck  saint !  " 

44  If  that's  all,  my  little  Flore,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I 
won't  receive  my  sister,  or  my  nephews.  I  swear  to 
3'ou  this  is  the  first  word  I  have  heard  of  their  coming. 
It  is  all  got  up  by  that  Madame  Hochon  —  a  sancti- 
monious old —  " 

Max,  who  overheard  old  Rouget's  words,  entered 
suddenly,  and  said  in  a  masterful  tone, — 

44  What's  all  this?" 

44  My  good  Max,"  said  the  old  man,  glad  to  get  the 
protection  of  the  soldier  who,  by  agreement  with  Flore, 
always  took  his  side  in  a  dispute,  44  I  swear  \)y  all  that 
is  most  sacred,  that  I  now  hear  this  news  for  the  first 
time.  I  have  never  written  to  m}7  sister  ;  my  father  made 
me  promise  not  to  leave  her  any  of  my  propert}- ;  to 
leave  it  to  the  Church  sooner  than  to  her.  Well,  I 
won't  receive  my  sister  Agathe  in  this  house,  or  her 
sons  —  " 

44  Your  father  was  wrong,  m}T  dear  Jean-Jacques,  and 
Madame  Brazier  is  still  more  wrong,"  answered  Max. 
44  Your  father  no  doubt  had  his  reasons,  but  he  is  dead, 
and  his  hatred  should  die  with  him.  Your  sister  is 
3*our  sister,  and  your  nephews  are  your  nephews.  You 
owe  it  to  yourself  to  welcome  them,  and  you  owe  it  to 
us  as  well.  What  would  people  say  in  Issoudun? 
Thunder!     I've  got  enough  upon  my  shoulders  as  it 


The  Two  Brothers.  207 

is,  without  hearing  people  saj-  that  we  shut  you  up  and 
don't  allow  you  a  will  of  your  own,  or  that  we  influence 
you  against  3'our  relations  and  are  trying  to  get  hold 
of  your  property.  The  devil  take  me  if  I  don't  pull 
up  stakes  and  be  off,  if  that  sort  of  calumny  is  to  be 
flung  at  me  !  the  other  is  bad  enough  !  Let 's  eat  our 
breakfast." 

Flore,  who  was  now  as  mild  as  a  weasel,  helped 
Veclie  to  set  the  table.  Old  Rouget,  full  of  admiration 
for  Max,  took  him  by  both  hands  and  led  him  into 
the  recess  of  a  window,  saying  in  a  low  voice  :  — 

"  Ah  !  Max,  if  I  had  a  son,  I  couldn't  love  him  better 
than  I  love  you.  Flore  is  right :  you  two  are  my  real 
family.  You  are  a  man  of  honor,  Max,  and  what  you 
have  just  said  is  true." 

'  \  You  ought  to  receive  and  entertain  yoxxv  sister  and 
her  son,  but  not  change  the  arrangements  you  have 
made  about  your  property,"  said  Max.  "In  that  way 
you  will  do  what  is  right  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and 
3ret  keep  your  promise  to  your  father." 

"Well!  my  dear  loves!"  cried  Flore,  gayly,  "the 
salmi  is  getting  cold.  Come,  my  old  rat,  here  's  a  wing 
for  you,"  she  said,  smiling  on  Jean- Jacques. 

At  the  words,  the  long-drawn  face  of  the  poor  crea- 
ture lost  its  cadaverous  tints,  the  smile  of  a  Theriaki 
flickered  on  his  pendent  lips ;  but  he  was  seized  with 
another  fit  of  coughing  ;  for  the  joy  of  being  taken  back 
to  favor  excited  as  violent  an  emotion  as  the  punish- 
ment itself.  Flore  rose,  pulled  a  little  cashmere  shawl 
from  her  own  shoulders  and  tfed  it  round  the  old  manv 
throat,  exclaiming :  "  How  silly  to  put  yourself  in  such 
a  way  about  nothing.  There,  you  old  goose,  that  will 
Jo  you  good  ;  it  has  been  next  my  heart  — " 


208  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  What  a  good  creature !  "  said  Rouge  t  to  Max, 
while  Flore  went  to  fetch  a  black  velvet  cap  to  cover 
the  nearly  bald  head  of  the  old  bachelor. 

11  As  good  as  she  is  beautiful ;  "  answered  Max,  "but 
she  is  quick-tempered,  like  all  people  who  carry  their 
hearts  in  their  hands." 

The  baldness  of  this  sketch  may  displease  some,  who 
will  think  the  flashes  of  Flore's  character  belong  to  the 
sort  of  realism  which  a  painter  ought  to  leave  in  shadow. 
Well !  this  scene,  played  again  and  again  with  shocking 
variations,  is,  in  its  coarse  way  and  its  horrible  veracity, 
the  type  of  such  scenes  played  by  women  on  whatever 
rung  of  the  social  ladder  they^  are  perched,  when  an}* 
interest,  no  matter  what,  draws  them  from  their  own 
line  of  obedience  and  induces  them  to  grasp  at  power. 
In  their  ej'es,  as  in  those  of  politicians,  all  means  to 
an  end  are  justifiable.  Between  Flore  Brazier  and  a 
duchess,  between  a  duchess  and  the  richest  bourgeoise, 
between  a  bourgeoise  and  the  most  luxuriously  kept 
mistress,  there  are  no  differences  except  those  of  the 
education  they  have  received,  and  the  surroundings  in 
which  they  live.  The  pouting  of  a  fine  lady  is  the  same 
thing  as  the  violence  of  a  Rabouilleuse.  At  all  levels, 
bitter  sa3*ings,  ironical  jests,  cold  contempt,  hypocritical 
complaints,  false  quarrels,  win  as  much  success  as  the 
low  outbursts  of  this  Madame  Everard  of  Issoudun. 

Max  began  to  relate,  with  much  humor,  the  tale  of 
Fario  and  his  barrow,  which  made  the  old  man  laugh. 
Vedie  and  Kouski,  who  came  to  listen,  exploded  in  the 
kitchen,  and  as  to  Flore,  she  laughed  convulsively.  Af- 
ter breakfast,  while  Jean-Jacques  read  the  newspapers 
(for  they  subscribed  to  the  "  Constitutionel "  and  the 
--Pandore"),  Max  carried  Flore  to  his  own  quarters. 


The  Two  Brothers.  209 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  he  has  not  made  any  other  will 
since  the  one  in  which  he  left  the  property  to  you?  " 

"  He  hasn't  anything  to  write  with,"  she  answered. 

"  He  might  have  dictated  it  to  some  notaiy,"  said 
Max  ;  "we  must  look  out  for  that.  Therefore  it  is  well 
to  be  cordial  to  the  Bridaus,  and  at  the  same  time  en- 
deavor to  turn  those  mortgages  into  mone}\  The  nota- 
ries will  be  only  too  glad  to  make  the  transfers  ;  it  is 
grist  to  their  mill.  The  Funds  are  going  up  ;  we  shall 
conquer  Spain,  and  deliver  Ferdinand  VII.  and  the  Cor- 
tez,  and  then  the}*  will  be  above  par.  You  and  I  could 
make  a  good  thing  of  it  by  putting  the  old  fellow's 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  into  the  Funds 
at  eighty-nine.  Only  you  must  try  to  get  it  done  in 
3-our  name ;  it  will  be  so  much  secured  anyhow." 

"  A  capital  idea  !  "  said  Flore. 

"And  as  there  will  be  an  income  of  fifty  thousand 
francs  from  eight  hundred  and  ninety  thousand,  we  must 
make  him  borrow  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand  francs 
for  two  years,  to  be  paid  back  in  two  instalments.  In  two 
years,  we  shall  get  one  hundred  thousand  francs  in  Paris, 
and  ninety  thousand  here,  and  risk  nothing." 

"If  it  were  not  for  }*ou,  my  handsome  Max,  what 
would  become  of  me  now?"  she  said. 

"Oh!  to-morrow  night  at  Mere  Cognette's,  after  I 
have  seen  the  Parisians,  I  shall  find  a  way  to  make 
the  Hochons  themselves  get  rid  of  them." 

"  Ah  !  what  a  head  you  Ve  got,  my  angel !  You  are 
a  love  of  a  man." 

The  place  Saint-Jean  is  at  the  centre  of  a  long  street 
called  at  the  upper  end  the  rue  Grande  Narette,  and  at 
the  lower  the  rue  Petite  Narette.  The  word  "  Narette  " 
is  used  in  Berry  to  express  the  same  lay  of  the  land  as 

14 


210  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  Genoese  word  salita  indicates, —  that  is  to  say,  a 
steep  street.  The  Grande  Narette  rises  rapidly  from 
the  place  Saint-Jean  to  the  porte  Vilatte.  The  house  of 
old  Monsieur  Hochon  is  exactly  opposite  that  of  Jean- 
Jacques  Rouget.  From  the  windows  of  the  room  where 
Madame  Hochon  usually  sat,  it  was  eas\~  to  see  what 
went  on  at  the  Rouget  household,  and  vice  versa,  when 
the  curtains  were  drawn  back  or  the  doors  were  left  open. 
The  Hochon  house  was  like  the  Rouget  house,  and  the 
two  were  doubtless  built  by  the  same  architect.  Mon- 
sieur Hochon,  formerly  tax-collector  at  Selles  in  Beny, 
born,  however,  at  Issoudun,  had  returned  to  his  native 
place  and  married  the  sister  of  the  sub-delegate,  the  gay 
Lousteau,  exchanging  his  office  at  Selles  for  another  of 
the  same  kind  at  Issoudun.  Having  retired  before  1787, 
he  escaped  the  clangers  of  the  Revolution,  to  whos^  prin- 
ciples, however,  he  firmly  adhered,  like  all  other  "  honest 
men  "  who  howl  with  the  winners.  Monsieur  Hochon 
came  honestly  by  the  reputation  of  miser.  But  it  would 
be  mere  repetition  to  sketch  him  here.  A  single  speci- 
men of  the  avarice  which  made  him  famous  will  suffice 
to  make  yo\x  see  Monsieur  Hochon  as  he  was. 

At  the  wedding  of  his  daughter,  now  dead,  who  mar- 
ried a  Borniche,  it  was  necessary  to  give  a  dinner  to  the 
Borniche  famifv.  The  bridegroom,  who  was  heir  to  a 
large  fortune,  had  suffered  great  mortification  from  hav- 
ing mismanaged  his  property,  and  still  more  because 
his  father  and  mother  refused  to  help  him  out.  The  old 
people,  who  were  living  at  the  time  of  the  marriage,  were 
delighted  to  see  Monsieur  Hochon  step  in  as  guardian, 
—  for  the  purpose,  of  course,  of  making  his  daughter's 
dowry  secure.  On  the  day  of  the  dinner,  which  was 
given  to  celebrate  the  signing  of  the  marriage  contract, 


The  Two  Brothers.  211 

the  chief  relations  of  the  two  families  were  assembled 
in  the  salon,  the  Hochons  on  one  side,  the  Borniches  on 
the  other,  —  all  in  their  best  clothes.  While  the  con- 
tract was  being  solemnly  read  aloud  by  young  Heron, 
the  notary,  the  cook  came  into  the  room  and  asked 
Monsieur  Hochon  for  some  twine  to  truss  up  the  turkey, 
—  an  essential  feature  of  the  repast.  The  old  man  dove 
into  the  pocket  of  his  surtout  and  pulled  forth  a  bit  of 
string,  which  had  evidently  already  served  to  tie  up  a 
parcel,  and  gave  it  to  her ;  but  before  she  could  leave 
the  room  he  called  out,  "  Gritte,  mind  you  give  it  back 
to  me  !  "  (Gritte  is  the  abbreviation  used  in  Berry  for 
Marguerite.) 

From  year  to  year  old  Hochon  grew  more  petty  in  his 
meanness,  and  more  penurious  ;  and  at  this  time  he  was 
eighty-five  years  old.  He  belonged  to  the  class  of  men 
who  stop  short  in  the  street,  in  the  middle  of  a  lively 
dialogue,  and  stoop  to  pick  up  a  pin,  remarking,  as  the3' 
stick  it  in  the  sleeve  of  their  coat,  u  There  's  the  wife's 
stipend."  He  complained  bitterly  of  the  poor  quality 
of  the  cloth  manufactured  now-a-days,  and  called  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  his  coat  had  lasted  only  ten  years. 
Tall,  gaunt,  thin,  and  sallow ;  saying  little,  reading- 
little,  and  doing  nothing  to  fatigue  himself;  as  observ- 
ant of  forms  as  an  oriental,  —  he  enforced  in  his  own 
house  a  discipline  of  strict  abstemiousness,  weighing 
and  measuring  out  the  food  and  drink  of  the  family, 
which,  indeed,  was  rather  numerous,  and  consisted  of 
his  wife,  nee  Lousteau,  his  grandson  Borniche  with  a 
sister  Adolphine,  the  heirs  of  old  Borniche,  and  lastly, 
his  other  grandson,  Francois  Hochon. 

Hochon's  eldest  son  was  taken  by  the  draft  of  1813, 
which  drew  in  the  sons  of  well-to-do  families  who  had 


212  The  Two  Brothers. 

escaped  the  regular  conscription,  and  were  now  formed 
into  a  corps  styled  the  ''guards  of  honor."  This  heir- 
presumptive,  who  was  killed  at  Hanau,  had  married  early 
in  life  a  rich  woman,  intending  thereby  to  escape  all  con- 
scriptions ;  but  after  he  was  enrolled,  he  wasted  his  sub- 
stance, under  a  presentiment  of  his  end.  His  wife,  who 
followed  the  army  at  a  distance,  died  at  Strasburg  in 
1814,  leaving  debts  which  her  father-in-law  Hochon 
refused  to  pay,  —  answering  the  creditors  with  an  axiom 
of  ancient  law,  "  Women  are  minors." 

The  house,  though  large,  was  scantily  furnished ;  on 
the  second  floor,  however,  there  were  two  rooms  suit- 
able for  Madame  Bridau  and  Joseph.  Old  Hochon  now 
repented  that  he  had  kept  them  furnished  with  two  beds, 
each  bed  accompanied  by  an  old  armchair  of  natu^Q* 
wood  covered  with  needlework,  and  a  walnut  table, 
on  which  figured  a  water- pitcher  of  the  wide -mouthed 
kind  called  gueulard,  standing  in  a  basin  with  a  blue 
border.  The  old  man  kept  his  winter  store  of  apples 
and  pears,  medlars  and  quinces  on  heaps  of  straw 
in  these  rooms,  where  the  rats  and  mice  ran  riot,  so 
that  they  exhaled  a  mingled  odor  of  fruit  and  vermin. 
Madame  Hochon  now  directed  that  everything  should 
be  cleaned:  the  wall-paper,  which  had  peeled  off  in 
places,  was  fastened  up  again  with  wafers ;  and  she 
decorated  the  windows  with  little  curtains  which  she 
pieced  together  from  old  hoards  of  her  own.  Her  hus- 
band having  refused  to  let  her  buy  a  strip  of  drugget, 
she  laid  down  her  own  bedside  carpet  for  her  little  Aga- 
the,  —  "Poor  little  thing!"  as  she  called  the  mother, 
who  was  now  over  forty-seven  years  old.  Madame 
Hochon  borrowed  two  night-tables  from  a  neighbor,  and 
boldlv  hired  two  chests  of  drawers  with  brass  handles 


The  Two  Brothers.  213 

from  a  dealer  in  second-hand  furniture  who  lived  next 
to  Mere  Cognette.  She  herself  had  preserved  two  pairs 
of  candlesticks,  carved  in  choice  woods  b}'  her  own 
father,  who  had  the  turning  mania.  From  1770  to  1780 
it  was  the  fashion  among  rich  people  to  learn  a  trade, 
and  Monsieur  Lousteau,  the  father,  was  a  turner,  just  as 
Louis  XVI.  was  a  locksmith.  These  candlesticks  were 
ornamented  with  circlets  made  of  the  roots  of  rose, 
peach,  and  apricot  trees.  Madame  Hochon  actually 
risked  the  use  of  her  precious  relics !  These  prepara- 
tions and  this  sacrifice  increased  old  Hoehon's  anxiety  ; 
up  to  this  time  he  had  not  believed  in  the  arrival  of  the 
Bridaus. 

The  morning  of  the  day  that  was  celebrated  b}-  the 
trick  on  Fario,  Madame  Hochon  said  to  her  husband 
after  breakfast :  — 

"I  hope,  Hochon,  that  you  will  receive  my  god- 
daughter, Madame  Bridau,  properly."  Then,  after 
making  sure  that  her  grandchildren  were  out  of  hear- 
ing, she  added  :  "lam  mistress  of  my  own  property  ; 
don't  oblige  me  to  make  up  to  Agathe  in  my  will  for 
any  incivility  on  }Tour  part." 

"  Do  you  think,  madame,"  answered  Hochon,  in  a 
mild  voice,  M  that,  at  my  age,  I  don't  know  the  forms 
of  decent  civility?" 

"  You  know  very  well  what  I  mean,  you  crafty  old 
thing !  Be  friendly  to  our  guests,  and  remember  that 
I  love  Agathe." 

14  And  }7ou  love  Maxence  Gilet  also,  who  is  getting 
the  property  away  from  your  dear  Agathe  !  Ah  !  you  've 
warmed  a  viper  in  your  bosom  there  ;  but  after  all,  the 
Rouget  money  is  bound  to  go  to  a  Lousteau." 

After  making  this  allusion  to  the  supposed  parentage 


214  The  Two  Brothers. 

of  both  Max  and  Agathe,  Hochon  turned  to  leave  the 
room ;  but  old  Madame  Hochon,  a  woman  still  erect 
and  spare,  wearing  a  round  cap  with  ribbon  knots  and 
her  hair  powdered,  a  taffeta  petticoat  of  changeable 
colors  like  a  pigeon's  breast,  tight  sleeves,  and  her  feet 
in  high-heeled  slippers,  deposited  her  snuff-box  on  a 
little  table,  and  said  :  — 

"  Really,  Monsieur  Hochon,  how  can  a  man  of  your 
sense  repeat  absurdities  which,  unhappily,  cost  my  poor 
friend  her  peace  of  mind,  and  Agathe  the  property  which 
she  ought  to  have  had  from  her  father.  Max  Gilet  is 
not  the  son  of  my  brother,  whom  I  often  advised  to 
save  the  money  he  paid  for  him.  You  know  as  well  as 
I  do  that  Madame  Rouget  was  virtue  itself — " 

44  And  the  daughter  takes  after  her;  for  she  strikes 
me  as  uncommonly  stupid.  After  losing  all  her  for- 
tune, she  brings  up  her  sons  so  well  that  here  is  one  in 
prison  and  likely  to  be  brought  up  on  a  criminal  indict- 
ment before  the  Court  of  Peers  for  a  conspiracy  worthy 
of  Berton.  As  for  the  other,  he  is  worse  off;  he's  a 
painter.  If  your  proteges  are  to  sta}'  here  till  they 
have  extricated  that  fool  of  a  Rouget  from  the  claws  of 
Gilet  and  the  Rabouilleuse,  we  shall  eat  a  good  deal 
more  than  half  a  measure  of  salt  with  them." 

"  That's  enough,  Monsieur  Hochon  ;  you  had  better 
wish  they  may  not  have  two  strings  to  their  bow." 

Monsieur  Hochon  took  his  hat,  and  his  cane  with  an 
ivory  knob,  and  went  away  petrified  by  that  terrible 
speech  ;  for  he  had  no  idea  his  wife  could  show  such 
resolution.  Madame  Hochon  took  her  prayer-book  to 
read  the  service,  for  her  advanced  age  prevented 
her  from  going  daily  to  church ;  it  was  only  with 
difficulty  that  she  got  there  on  Sundays  and  holiday 


' 


The  Two  Brothers.  215 

Since  receiving  her  goddaughter's  letter  she  had  added 
a  petition  to  her  usual  prayers,  supplicating  God  to 
open  the  e}~es  of  Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  and  to  bless 
Agathe  and  prosper  the  expedition  into  which  she  her- 
self had  drawn  her.  Concealing  the  fact  from  her 
grandchildren,  whom  she  accused  of  being  "parpail- 
lots"  she  had  asked  the  curate  to  say  a  mass  for 
Agathe's  success  during  a  neuvaine  which  was  being 
held  by  her  granddaughter,  Adolphine  Borniche,  who 
thus  made  her  prayers  in  church  by  prox}\ 

Adolphine,  then  eighteen,  —  who  for  the  last  seven 
years  had  sewed  at  the  side  of  her  grandmother  in  that 
cold  household  of  monotonous  and  methodical  customs, 
—  had  undertaken  her  neuvaine  all  the  more  willingly 
because  she  hoped  to  inspire  some  feeling  in  Joseph 
Bridau,  in  whom  she  took  the  deepest  interest  because 
of  the  monstrosities  which  her  grandfather  attributed 
in  her  hearing  to  the  young  Parisian. 

All  the  old  people  and  sensible  people  of  the  town, 
and  the  fathers  of  families  approved  of  Madame 
Hochon's  conduct  in  receiving  her  goddaughter ;  and 
their  good  wishes  for  the  latter's  success  were  in  pro- 
portion to  the  secret  contempt  with  which  the  conduct 
of  Maxence  Gilet  had  long  inspired  them.  Thus  the 
news  of  the  arrival  of  Rouget's  sister  and  nephew 
raised  two  parties  in  Issoudun,  —  that  of  the  higher  and 
older  bourgeoisie,  who  contented  themselves  with  offer- 
ing good  wishes  and  in  watching  events  without  as- 
sisting them,  and  that  of  the  Knights  of  Idleness  and 
the  partisans  of  Max,  who,  unfortunately,  were  capable 
of  committing  many  high-handed  outrages  against  the 
Parisians. 


216  The  Two  Brothers. 


XL 


Agathe  and  Joseph  arrived  at  the  coach-office  of  the 
Messageries-Royales  in  the  place  Misere  at  three 
o'clock.  Though  tired  with  the  journey,  Madame 
Bridau  felt  her  youth  revive  at  sight  of  her  native  land, 
where  at  eveiy  step  she  came  upon  memories  and  im- 
pressions of  her  girlish  days.  In  the  then  condition  of 
public  opinion  in  Issoudun,  the  arrival  of  the  Parisians 
was  known  all  over  the  town  in  ten  minutes.  Madame 
Hochon  came  out  upon  her  doorstep  to  welcome  her  god- 
child, and  kissed  her  as  though  she  were  really  a  daugh- 
ter. After  seventy-two  years  of  a  barren  and  monotonous 
existence,  exhibiting  in  their  r  trospect  the  graves  of  her 
three  children,  all  unhappy  in  their  lives,  and  all  dead, 
she  had  come  to  feel  a  sort  of  factitious  motherhood 
for  the  young  girl  whom  she  had,  as  she  expressed  it, 
carried  in  her  pouch  for  sixteen  years.  Through  the 
gloom  of  provincial  life  the  old  woman  had  cherished 
this  early  friendship,  this  girlish  memory,  as  closely  as 
if  Agathe  had  remained  near  her,  and  she  had  also 
taken  the  deepest  interest  in  Bridau.  Agathe  was  led 
in  triumph  to  the  salon  where  Monsieur  Hochon  was 
stationed,  chilling  as  a  tepid  oven. 

"  Here  is  Monsieur  Hochon  ;  how  does  he  seem  to 
3rou?"  asked  his  wife. 

44  Precisely  the  same  as  when  I  last  saw  him/'  said 
the  Parisian  woman. 


The  Two  Brothers.  217 

"  Ah!  it  is  easy  to  see  you  come  from  Paris;  you 
are  so  complimentary,"  remarked  the  old  man. 

The  presentations  took  place :  first,  young  Baruch 
Borniche,  a  tall  youth  of  twenty-two ;  then  Francois 
Hochon,  twenty-four ;  and  lastlj-  little  Adolphine,  who 
blushed  and  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  her  arms  ;  she 
was  anxious  not  to  seem  to  be  looking  at  Joseph  Bridau, 
who  in  his  turn  was  narrowly  observed,  though  from  dif- 
ferent points  of  view,  by  the  two  young  men  and  by  old 
Hochon.  The  miser  was  saying  to  himself,  "  He  is 
just  out  of  the  hospital ;  he  will  be  as  hungry  as  a  con- 
valescent." The  young  men  were  saying,  "  What  a 
head  !  what  a  brigand  !  we  shall  have  our  hands  full !  " 

"This  is  my  son,  the  painter;  my  good  Joseph," 
said  Agathe  at  last,  presenting  the  artist. 

There  was  an  effort  in  the  accent  that  she  put 
upon  the  word  "  good,"  which  revealed  the  mother's 
heart,  whose  thoughts  were  really  in  the  prison  of  the 
Luxembourg.  "^ 

14  He  looks  ill,"  said  Madame  Hochon;  "he  is  not 
at  all  like  you." 

"  No,  madame,"  said  Joseph,  with  the  brusque  can- 
dor of  an  artist ;  "lam  like  my  father,  and  very  ugly 
at  that." 

Madame  Hochon  pressed  Agathe's  hand  which  she  was 
holding,  and  glanced  at  her  as  much  as  to  say,  Ah !  my 
child  ;  I  understand  now  why  you  prefer  your  good-for- 
nothing  Philippe. 

"  I  never  saw  your  father,  my  dear  boy,"  she  said 
aloud  ;  "  it  is  enough  to  make  me  love  you  that  you  are 
your  mother's  son.  Besides,  }ou  have  talent,  so  the  late 
Madame  Descoings  used  to  write  to  me ;  she  was  the 
only  one  of  late  years  who  told  me  much  about  you." 


218  The  Two  Brothers. 

"Talent!"  exclaimed  the  artist,  "not  as  yet;  but 
with  time  and  patience  I  may  win  fame  and  fortune." 

"  By  painting?  "  said  Monsieur  Hochon  ironically. 

"Come,  Adolphine,"  said  Madame  Hochon,  "go 
and  see  about  dinner." 

"Mother,"  said  Joseph,  "  I  will  attend  to  the  trunks 
which  they  are  bringing  in." 

"  Hochon,"  said  the  grandmother  to  Francois,  "  show 
the  rooms  to  Monsieur  Bridau." 

As  the  dinner  was  to  be  served  at  four  o'clock  and  it 
was  now  only  half  past  three,  Baruch  rushed  into  the 
town  to  tell  the  news  of  the  Bridau  arrival,  describe 
Agathe's  dress,  and  more  particularlj-  to  picture  Joseph, 
whose  haggard,  unhealthy,  and  determined  face  was  not 
unlike  the  ideal  of  a  brigand.  That  evening  Joseph 
was  the  topic  of  conversation  in  all  the  households  of 
Issoudun. 

"  That  sister  of  Rouget  must  have  seen  a  monkey 
before  her  son  was  born,"  said  one  ;  "  he  is  the  image 
of  a  baboon." 

"  He  has  the  face  of  a  brigand  and  the  eyes  of  a 
basilisk." 

"  All  artists  are  like  that." 

"  They  are  as  wicked  as  a  red  ass,  and  as  spiteful  as 
monkeys." 

"  It  is  part  of  their  business." 

"  I  have  just  seen  Monsieur  Beaussier,  and  he  says 
he  would  not  like  to  meet  him  in  a  dark  wood  ;  he  saw 
him  in  the  diligence." 

"  He  has  got  hollows  over  the  eyes  like  a  horse,  and 
he  laughs  like  a  maniac." 

"  The  fellow  looks  as  though  he  were  capable  of 
anything ;  perhaps  it 's  his  fault  that  his  brother,  a  fine 


The  Two  Brothers.  219 

handsome  man  they  tell  me,  has  gone  to  the  bad.  Poor 
Madame  Bridau.  does  n't  seem  as  if  she  were  very  happy 
with  him." 

"  Suppose  we  take  advantage  of  his  being  here,  and 
have  our  portraits  painted  ?  " 

The  result  of  all  these  observations,  scattered  through 
the  town  was,  naturally,  to  excite  curiosity.  All  those 
who  had  the  right  to  visit  the  Hochons  resolved  to  call 
that  very  night  and  examine  the  Parisians.  The  arrival 
of  these  two  persons  in  the  stagnant  town  was  like  the 
falling  of  a  beam  into  a  communit}'  of  frogs. 

After  stowing  his  mother's  things  and  his  own  into 
the  two  attic  chambers,  which  he  examined  as  he  did  so, 
Joseph  took  note  of  the  silent  house,  where  the  walls, 
the  stair-case,  the  wood-work,  were  devoid  of  decoration 
and  humid  with  frost,  and  where  there  was  literally 
nothing  beyond  the  merest  necessaries.  He  felt  the 
brusque  transition  from  his  poetic  Paris  to  the  dumb 
and  arid  province ;  and  when,  coming  downstairs,  he 
chanced  to  see  Monsieur  Hochon  cutting  slices  of  bread 
for  each  person,  he  understood,  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  Moliere's  Harpagon. 

k'  We  should  have  done  better  to  go  to  an  inn,"  he 
said  to  himself. 

The  aspect  of  the  dinner  confirmed  his  apprehensions. 
After  a  soup  whose  watery  clearness  showed  that 
quantity  was  more  considered  than  quality,  the  bouilli 
was  served,  ceremoniously  garnished  with  parsley ;  the 
vegetables,  in  a  dish  by  themselves,  being  counted  into 
the  items  of  the  repast.  The  bouilli  held  the  place  of 
honor  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  accompanied  with 
three  other  dishes :  hard-boiled  eggs  on  sorrel  opposite 
to  the  vegetables  ;  then  a  salad  dressed  with  nut-oil  to 


220  The  Two  Brothers. 

face  little  cups  of  custard,  whose  flavoring  of  burnt 
oats  did  service  as  vanilla,  which  it  resembles  much  as 
coffee  made  of  chiccory  resembles  mocha.  Butter  and 
radishes,  in*  two  plates,  were  at  each  end  of  the  table  ; 
pickled  gherkins  and  horse-radish  completed  the  spread, 
which  won  Madame  Hochon's  approbation.  The  good 
old  woman  gave  a  contented  little  nod  when  she  saw 
that  her  husband  had  done  things  properly,  for  the  first 
day  at  least.  The  old  man  answered  with  a  glance  and 
a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  which  it  was  easy  to  translate 
into  — 

"  See  the  extravagances  you  force  me  to  commit !  " 
As  soon  as  Monsieur  Hochon  had,  as  it  were,  slivered 
the  bouilli  into  slices,  about  as  thick  as  the  sole  of  a 
dancing-shoe,  that  dish  was  replaced  by  another,  con- 
taining three  pigeons.  The  wine  was  of  the  country, 
vintage  1811.  On  a  hint  from  her  grandmother, 
Adolphine  had  decorated  each  end  of  the  table  with  a 
bunch  of  flowers. 

"At  Rome  as  the  Romans  do,"  thought  the  artist, 
looking  at  the  table,  and  beginning  to  eat,  —  like  a  man 
who  had  breakfasted  at  Vierzon,  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  on  an  execrable  cup  of  coffee.  When  Joseph 
had  eaten  up  all  his  bread  and  asked  for  more,  Monsieur 
Hochon  rose,  slowly  searched  in  the  pocket  of  his  surtout 
for  a  key,  unlocked  a  cupboard  behind  him,  broke  off  a 
section  of  a  twelve-pound  loaf,  carefully  cut  a  7'ound  of 
it,  then  divided  the  round  in  two,  laid  the  pieces  on  a 
plate,  and  passed  the  plate  across  the  table  to  the  young 
painter,  with  the  silence  and  coolness  of  an  old  soldier 
who  says  to  himself  on  the  eve  of  battle,  "Well,  I 
can  meet  death."  Joseph  took  the  half-slice,  and 
fully  understood  that  he  was  not  to  ask  for  any  more. 


The  Two  Brothers.  221 

No  member  of  the  famil}*  was  the  least  surprised  at  this 
extraordinar}'  performance.  The  conversation  went  on. 
Agathe  learned  that  the  house  in  which  she  was  horn, 
her  father's  house  before  he  inherited  that  of  the 
old  Descoings,  had  been  bought  by  the  Borniches  ;  she 
expressed  a  wish  to  see  it  once  more. 

"No  doubt,"  said  her  godmother,  "the  Borniches 
will  be  here  this  evening ;  we  shall  have  half  the  town  — 
who  want  to  examine  3*ou,"  she  added,  turning  to 
Joseph,  "  and  they  will  all  invite  you  to  their  houses." 

Gritte,  who,  in  spite  of  her  sixt}T  years,  was  the  only 
servant  of  the  house,  brought  in  for  dessert  the  famous 
ripe  cheese  of  Touraine  and  Berry,  made  of  goat's  milk, 
whose  mouldy  discolorations  so  distinctly  reproduce  the 
pattern  of  the  vine-leaves  on  which  it  is  served,  that 
Touraine  ought  to  have  invented  the  art  of  engraving. 
On  either  side  of  these  little  cheeses  Gritte,  with  a  com- 
pany air,  placed  nuts  and  some  time-honored  biscuits. 

"Well,  Gritte,  the  fruit?"  said  Madame  Hochon. 

"But,  madame,  there  is  none  rotten,"  answered 
Gritte. 

Joseph  went  off  into  roars  of  laughter,  as  though  he 
were  among  his  comrades  in  the  atelier ;  for  he  suddens- 
perceived  that  the  parsimony  of  eating  only  the  fruits 
which  were  beginning  to  rot  had  degenerated  into  a 
settled  habit. 

"  Bah !  we  can  eat  them  all  the  same,"  he  exclaimed, 
with  the  heedless  gayety  of  a  man  who  will  have  his  say. 

"Monsieur  Hochon,  pray  get  some,"  said  the  old 
lady. 

Monsieur  Hochon,  much  incensed  at  the  artist's 
speech,  fetched  some  peaches,  pears,  and  Saint- 
Catherine  plums. 


222  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Adolphine,  go  and  gather  some  grapes,"  said  Ma- 
dame Hochon  to  her  granddaughter. 

Joseph  looked  at  the  two  young  men  as  much  as  to 
say:  "Is  it  to  such  living  as  this  that  you  owe  your 
healthy  faces  ?  " 

Baruch  understood  the  keen  glance  and  smiled ;  for 
he  and  his  cousin  Hochon  were  behaving  with  much  dis- 
cretion. The  home-life  was  of  less  importance  to  youths 
who  supped  three  times  the  week  at  Mere  Cognette's. 
Moreover,  just  before  dinner,  Baruch  had  received 
notice  that  the  grand  master  convoked  the  whole  Order 
at  midnight  for  a  magnificent  supper,  in  the  course  of 
which  a  great  enterprise  would  be  arranged.  The  feast 
of  welcome  given  by  old  Hochon  to  his  guests  explains 
how  necessary  were  the  nocturnal  repasts  at  the  Cog- 
nette's to  two  young  fellows  blessed  with  good  appetites, 
who,  we  ma}'  add,  never  missed  any  of  them. 

"  We  will  take  the  liqueur  in  the  salon,"  said  Madame 
Hochon,  rising  and  motioning  to  Joseph  to  give  her  his 
arm.  As  they  went  out  before  the  others,  she  whispered 
to  the  painter  :  — 

"Eh!  my  poor  boy;  this  dinner  won't  give  you 
an  indigestion  ;  but  I  had  hard  work  to  get  it  for  you. 
It  is  always  Lent  here  ;  }*ou  will  get  enough  just  to 
keep  life  in  30U,  and  no  more.  So  you  must  bear  it 
patiently." 

The  kind-heartedness  of  the  old  woman,  who  thus 
drew  her  own  indictment,  pleased  the  artist. 

"  I  have  lived  fifty1-  years  with  that  man,  without  ever 
hearing  half-a-dozen  gold  pieces  chink  in  my  purse," 
she  went  on.  "  Oh  !  if  I  did  not  hope  that  you  might 
save  your  property,  I  would  never  have  brought  you  and 
your  mother  into  my  prison." 


The  Two  Brother*.  223 

"  But  how  can  yon  survive  it?  "  cried  Joseph  naively, 
with  the  gayety  which  a  French  artist  never  loses. 

M  Ah,  3011  may  well  ask  !  "  she  said.     "  I  pray. " 

Joseph  quivered  as  he  heard  the  words,  which  raised 
the  old  woman  so  much  in  his  estimation  that  he  stepped 
back  a  little  wa}T  to  look  into  her  face  ;  it  was  radiant 
with  so  tender  a  serenit}T  that  he  said  to  her,  — 

"  Let  me  paint  3*011  r  portrait." 

M  No,  no,  "  she  answered,  "lam  too  weaiy  of  life  to 
wish  to  remain  here  on  canvas." 

Gayty  uttering  the  sad  words,  she  opened  a  closet, 
and  brought  out  a  flask  containing  ratafia,  a  domestic 
manufacture  of  her  own,  the  receipt  for  which  she  ob- 
tained from  the  far-famed  nuns  to  whom  is  also  due 
the  celebrated  cake  of  Issoudun, — one  of  the  great 
creations  of  French  confectioneiy  ;  which  no  chef,  cook, 
pastiy-cook,  or  confectioner  has  ever  been  able  to  re- 
produce. Monsieur  de  Riviere,  ambassador  at  Con- 
stantinople, ordered  enormous  quantities  ever3T  3*ear  for 
the  Seraglio. 

Adolphine  held  a  lacquer  tra3*  on  which  were  a 
number  of  little  old  glasses  with  engraved  sides  and 
gilt  edges  ;  and  as  her  grandmother  filled  each  of  them, 
she  carried  it  to  the  Compaq*. 

"  It  seems  as  though  my  father's  turn  were  coming 
round ! "  exclaimed  Agathe,  to  whom  this  immutable 
provincial  custom  recalled  the  scenes  of  her  3'outh. 

4-  Hochon  will  go  to  his  club  present^*  to  read  the 
papers,  and  we  shall  have  a  little  time  to  ourselves, " 
said  the  old  lad3T  in  a  low  voice. 

In  fact,  ten  minutes  later,  the  three  women  and 
Joseph  were  alone  in  the  salon,  where  the  floor  was 
never  waxed,  only  swept,  and  the  worsted- work  designs 


224  The  Two  Brothers. 

in  oaken  frames  with  grooved  mouldings,  and  all  the 
other  plain  and  rather  dismal  furniture  seemed  to  Ma- 
dame Bridau  to  be  in  exactly  the  same  state  as  when  she 
had  left  Issoudnn.  Monarch}',  Revolution,  Empire, 
and  Restoration,  which  respected  little,  had  certainly 
respected  this  room  where  their  glories  and  their  dis- 
asters had  left  not  the  slightest  trace. 

"Ah!  my  godmother,  in  comparison  with  }'our  life, 
mine  has  been  cruelly  tried,"  exclaimed  Madame  Bridau, 
surprised  to  find  even  a  canary  which  she  had  known 
when  alive,  stuffed,  and  standing  on  the  mantleshelf 
between  the  old  clock,  the  old  brass  brackets,  and  the 
silver  candlesticks. 

"My  child,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  trials  are  in  the 
heart.  The  greater  and  more  necessary  the  resigna- 
tion, the  harder  the  struggle  with  our  own  selves.  But 
don't  speak  of  me,  let  us  talk  of  your  affairs.  You  are 
directly  in  front  of  the  enemy,"  she  added,  pointing  to 
the  windows  of  the  Rouget  house. 

"  They  are  sitting  down  to  dinner,"  said  Adolphine. 

The  young  girl,  destined  for  a  cloister,  was  constantly 
looking  out  of  the  window,  in  hopes  of  getting  some 
light  upon  the  enormities  imputed  to  Maxence  Gilet,  the 
Rabouilleuse,  and  Jean-Jacques,  of  which  a  few  words 
reached  her  ears  whenever  she  was  sent  out  of  the  room 
that  others  might  talk  about  them.  The  old  lady  now 
told  her  granddaughter  to  leave  her  alone  with  Ma- 
dame Bridau  and  Joseph  until  the  arrival  of  visitors. 

"  For,  "  she  said,  turning  to  the  Parisians,  "  I  know 
my  Issoudun  by  heart ;  we  shall  have  ten  or  twelve 
batches  of  inquisitive  folk  here  to-night.  " 

In  fact  Madame  Hochon  had  hardly  related  the  events 
and  the   details   concerning   the    astounding:   influence 


The  Two  Brothers.  225 

obtained  by  Maxence  Gilet  and  the  Kabouilleuse  over 
Jean-Jacques  Rouget  (without,  of  course,  following  the 
synthetical  method  with  which  they  have  been  pre- 
sented here) ,  adding  the  many  comments,  descriptions, 
and  hypotheses  with  which  the  good  and  evil  tongues 
of  the  town  embroidered  them,  before  Adolphine  an- 
nounced the  approach  of  the  Borniche,  Beaussier,  Lous- 
teau-Prangin,  Fichet,  Goddet-Herau  families ;  in  all, 
fourteen  persons  looming  in  the  distance. 

u  You  now  see,  my  dear  child, "  said  the  old  lady, 
concluding  her  tale,  ' '  that  it  will  not  be  an  easy  matter 
to  get  this  property  out  of  the  jaws  of  the  wolf —  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  so  difficult  —  with  a  scoundrel  such 
as  3rou  represent  him,  and  a  daring  woman  like  that 
crab-girl  —  as  to  be  actually  impossible,"  remarked 
Joseph.  "  We  should  have  to  sta}'  a  year  in  Issoudun 
to  counteract  their  influence  and  overthrow  their  domin- 
ion over  m}-  uncle.  Money  is  n't  worth  such  a  struggle, 
—  not  to  speak  of  the  meannesses  to  which  we  should 
have  to  condescend.  My  mother  has  only  two  weeks' 
leave  of  absence ;  her  place  is  a  permanent  one,  and 
she  must  not  risk  it.  As  for  me,  in  the  month  of  Octo- 
ber I  have  an  important  work,  which  Schinner  has  just 
obtained  for  me  from  a  peer  of  France ;  so  }'ou  see, 
madame,  my  future  fortune  is  in  my  brushes.'' 

This  speech  was  received  b}'  Madame  Hochon  with 
mute  amazement.  Though  relatively  superior  to  the 
town  she  lived  in,  the  old  lady  did  not  believe  in 
painting.  She  glanced  at  her  goddaughter,  and  again 
pressed  her  hand. 

"This  Maxence  is  the  second  volume  of  Philippe," 
whispered  Joseph  in  his  mother's  ear,  —  '*  only  cleverer 
and  better  behaved.     Well,  madame,"  he  said,  aloud, 

15 


220  The  Two  Brothers. 

"we  won't  trouble  Monsieur  Hochon  by  staying  very 
long." 

"Ah!  you  are  young;  you  know  nothing  of  the 
world,"  said  the  old  lady.  "  A  couple  of  weeks,  if  you 
are  judicious,  may  produce  great  results ;  listen  to  my 
advice,  and  act  accordingly." 

"Oh!  willingly;"  replied  Joseph,  "I  know  I  have 
a  perfectly  amazing  incapacit}T  for  domestic  statesman- 
ship :  for  example,  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  wiiat  Des- 
roches  himself  would  tell  us  to  do  if  my  uncle  declines 
to  see  us." 

Mesdames  Borniche,  Goddet-Herau,  Beaussier,  Lons- 
teau-Prangin  and  Fichet,  decorated  with  their  husbands, 
here  entered  the  room. 

When  the  fourteen  persons  were  seated,  and  tin1 
usual  compliments  were  over,  Madame  Hochon  pre- 
sented her  goddaughter  Agathe  and  Joseph.  Joseph 
sat  in  his  armchair  all  the  evening,  engaged  in  slyly 
stud3'ing  the  sixt}'  faces  which,  from  five  o'clock  until 
half  past  nine,  posed  for  him  gratis,  as  he  afterwards 
told  his  mother.  Such  behavior  before  the  aristocracy 
of  Issoudun  did  not  tend  to  change  the  opinion  of  the 
little  town  concerning  him  :  even'  one  went  home  ruffled 
by  his  sarcastic  glances,  uneasy  under  his  smiles,  and 
even  frightened  at  his  face,  which  seemed  sinister  to  a 
class  of  people  unable  to  recognize  the  singularities  of 
genius. 

After  ten  o'clock,  when  the  household  was  in  bed, 
Madame  Hochon  kept  her  goddaughter  in  her  chamber 
until  midnight.  Secure  from  interruption,  the  two 
women  told  each  other  the  sorrows  of  their  lives,  and 
exchanged  their  sufferings.  As  Agathe  listened  to  the 
last  echoes  of  a  soul  that  had  missed  its  destiny,  and 


TJie  Two  Brothers.  227 

felt  the  sufferings  of  a  heart,  essentially  generous  and 
charitable,  whose  charity  and  generosity  could  never  be 
exercised,  she  realized  the  immensity  of  the  desert  in 
which  the  powers  of  this  noble,  unrecognized  soul  had 
been  wasted,  and  knew  that  she  herself,  with  the  little 
J03-S  and  interests  of  her  city  life  relieving  the  bitter  trials 
sent  from  God,  was  not  the  most  unhappy  of  the  two. 

"You  who  are  so  pious,"  she  said,  "  explain  to  me 
my  shortcomings ;  tell  me  what  it  is  that  God  is  pun- 
ishing in  me." 

44  He  is  preparing  us,  my  child,"  answered  the  old 
woman,  "  for  the  striking  of  the  last  hour." 

At  midnight  the  Knights  of  Idleness  were  collecting, 
one  by  one  like  shadows,  under  the  trees  of  the  boule- 
vard Baron,  and  speaking  together  in  whispers. 

"What  are  we  going  to  do?  "  was  the  first  question 
of  each  as  he  arrived. 

"  I  think,"  said  Francois,  "  that  Max  means  merely 
to  give  us  a  supper." 

"No;  matters  are  very  serious  for  him,  and  for  the 
Rabouilleuse  :  no  doubt,  he  has  concocted  some  scheme 
against  the  Parisians." 

"  It  would  be  a  good  joke  to  drive  them  away." 

"  My  grandfather,"  said  Baruch,  "  is  terribly  alarmed 
at  having,  two  extra  mouths  to  feed,  and  he  VI  seize  on 
any  pretext  —  " 

"Well,  comrades!"  cried  Max  softly,  now  appear- 
ing on  the  scene,  "why  are  you  star-gazing?  the 
planets  don't  distil  kirschwasser.  Come,  let  us  go  to 
Mere  Cognette's ! " 

"  To  Mere  Cognette's  !  To  Mere  Cognette's  !  "  they 
all  cried. 


228  The  Two  Brothers. 

The  cry,  uttered  as  with  one  voice,  produced  a  clamor 
which  rang  through  the  town  like  the  hurrah  of  troops 
rushing  to  an  assault ;  total  silence  followed.  The 
next  da}T,  more  than  one  inhabitant  must  have  said  to 
his  neighbor:  "Did  you  hear  those  frightful  cries  last 
night,  about  one  o'clock?  I  thought  there  was  surely  a 
fire  somewhere." 

A  supper  worthy  of  La  Cognette  brightened  the  faces 
of  the  twent}'-two  guests ;  for  the  whole  Order  was 
present.  At  two  in  the  morning,  as  they  were  be- 
ginning to  siroter  (a  word  in  the  vocabulary  of  the 
Knights  which  admirably  expresses  the  act  of  sipping 
and  tasting  the  wine  in  small  quantities),  Max  rose 
to  speak :  — 

"  My  dear  fellows  !  the  honor  of  your  grand  master 
was  grossly  attacked  this  morning,  after  our  memorable 
joke  with  Fario's  cart,  —  attacked  by  a  vile  pedler,  and 
what  is  more,  a  Spaniard  (oh,  Cabrera !)  ;  and  I  have 
resolved  to  make  the  scoundrel  feel  the  weight  of  ni}T 
vengeance ;  always,  of  course,  within  the  limits  we 
have  laid  down  for  our  fun.  After  reflecting  about  it  all 
day,  I  have  found  a  trick  which  is  worth  putting  into 
execution,  —  a  famous  trick,  that  will  drive  him  crazy. 
While  avenging  the  insult  offered  to  the  Order  in  my 
person,  we  shall  be  feeding  the  sacred  animals  of  the 
Egyptians, — little  beasts  which  are, after  all,  the  creatures 
of  God,  and  which  man  unjustly  persecutes.  Thus  we 
see  that  good  is  the  child  of  evil,  and  evil  is  the  offspring 
of  good  ;  such  is  the  paramount  law  of  the  universe ! 
I  now  order  you  all,  on  pain  of  displeasing  your  very 
humble  grand  master,  to  procure  clandestinely,  each 
one  of  you,  twenty  rats,  male  or  female  as  heaven 
pleases.      Collect  your  contingent  within    three   days. 


The  Two  Brothers.  229 

If  you  can  get  more,  the  surplus  will  be  welcome. 
Keep  the  interesting  rodents  without  food  ;  for  it  is 
essential  that  the  delightful  little  beasts  be  ravenous 
with  hunger.  Please  observe  that  I  will  accept  both 
house-mice  and  field-mice  as  rats.  If  we  multiply 
twenty-two  by  twenty,  we  shall  have  four  hundred  ; 
four  hundred  accomplices  let  loose  in  the  old  church 
of  the  Capuchins,  where  Fario  has  stored  all  his  grain, 
will  consume  a  not  insignificant  quantity !  But  be 
lively  about  it !  There 's  no  time  to  lose.  Fario  is  to 
deliver  most  of  the  grain  to  his  customers  in  a  week 
or  so ;  and  I  am  determined  that  that  Spaniard  shall 
find  a  terrible  deficit.  Gentlemen,  I  have  not  the 
merit  of  this  invention,"  continued  Max,  observing 
signs  of  general  admiration.  "Render  to  Caesar  that 
which  is  Caesar's,  and  to  God  that  which  is  God's. 
My  scheme  is*Dnly  a  reproduction  of  Samson's  foxes, 
as  related  in  the  Bible.  But  Samson  was  an  incendi- 
ary, and  therefore  no  philanthropist ;  while  we,  like  the 
Brahmins,  are  the  protectors  of  a  persecuted  race. 
Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier  has  already  set  all  her 
mouse- traps,  and  Kouski,  my  right-arm,  is  hunting 
field-mice.     I  have  spoken." 

4kI  know,"  said  Goddet,  "where  to  find  an  animal 
that 's  worth  fort}'  rats,  himself  alone." 

"What's  that?" 

44  A  squirrel." 

44 1  offer  a  little  monke},"  said  one  of  the  younger 
members,  44  he'll  make  himself  drunk  on  wheat." 

44  Bad,  very  bad  !  "  exclaimed  Max,  44  it  would  show 
who  put  the  beasts  there." 

44  But  we  might  each  catch  a  pigeon  some  night," 
said    young   Beaussier,    "  taking   them   from   different 


230  The  Two  Brothers. 

farms ;  if  we  put  them  through  a  hole  in  tae  roof, 
they'll  attract  thousands  of  others." 

'"  So,  then,  for  the  next  week,  Fario's  storehouse 
is  the  order  of  the  night,"  cried  Max,  smiling  at 
Beaussier.  "Recollect;  people  get  up  early  in  Saint- 
Paterne.  Mind,  too,  that  none  of  you  go  there  without 
turning  the  soles  of  }our  list  shoes  backward.  Knight 
Beaussier,  the  inventor  of  pigeons,  is  made  director. 
As  for  me,  I  shall  take  care  to  leave  nry  imprjnt  on 
the  sacks  of  wheat.  Gentlemen,  }'ou  are,  all  of  you, 
appointed  to  the  commissariat  of  the  Arm}'  of  Rats. 
If  you  find  a  watchman  sleeping  in  the  church,  you 
must  manage  to  make  him  drunk,  —  and  do  it  cleverl}', 
—  so  as  to  get  him  far  away  from  the  scene  of  the 
Rodents'  Orgy." 

"You  don't  say  an}'thing  about  the  Parisians?" 
questioned  Goddet. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Max,  "I  want  time  to  stud}' 
them.  Meantime,  I  offer  m}'  best  shotgun  —  the  one 
the  Emperor  gave  me,  a  treasure  from  the  manufactor}^ 
at  Versailles  —  to  whoever  finds  a  way  to  pla}'  the  Bri- 
daus  a  trick  which  shall  get  them  into  difficulties  with 
Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon,  so  that  those  worthy 
old  people  shall  send  them  off,  or  they  shall  be  forced 
to  go  of  their  own  accord, — without,  understand  me, 
injuring  the  venerable  ancestors  of  my  two  friends  here 
present,  Baruch  and  Francois." 

"All  right!  I'll  think  of  it,"  said  Goddet,  who 
coveted  the  gun. 

"If  the  inventor  of  the  trick  doesn't  care  for  the 
gun,  he  shall  have  my  horse,"  added  Max. 

After  this  night  twent}'  brains  were  tortured  to  la}r  a 
plot  against  Agathe  and  her  son,  on  the  basis  of  Max's 


The  Two  Brothers.  231 

programme.  But  the  devil  alone,  or  chance,  could 
really  help  them  to  success ;  for  the  conditions  given 
made  the  thing  wellnigh  impossible. 

The  next  morning  Agathe  and  Joseph  came  down- 
stairs just  before  the  second  breakfast,  which  took 
place  at  ten  o'clock.  In  Monsieur  Hochon's  household 
the  name  of  first  breakfast  was  given  to  a  cup  of  milk 
and  slice  of  bread  and  butter  which  was  taken  in  bed, 
or  when  rising.  While  waiting  for  Madame  Hochon, 
who  notwithstanding  her  age  went  minutely  through 
the  ceremonies  with  which  the  duchesses  of  Louis  XV.'s 
time  performed  their  toilette,  Joseph  noticed  Jean- 
Jacques  Rouget  planted  squarely  on  his  feet  at  the 
door  of  his  house  across  the  street.  He  naturally 
pointed  him  out  to  his  mother,  who  was  unable  to 
recognize  her  brother,  so  little  did  he  look  like  what  he 
was  when  she  left  him. 

**  That  is  your  brother,"  said  Adolphine,  who  en- 
tered, giving  an  arm  to  her  grandmother. 

tfc  What  an  idiot  he  looks  like  !  "  exclaimed  Joseph. 

Agathe  clasped  her  hands,  and  raised  her  eyes  to 
heaven. 

"What  a  state  they  have  driven  him  to!  Good 
God  !  can  that  be  a  man  only  fifty-seven  3Tears  old?  " 

She  looked  attentively  at  her  brother,  and  saw  Flore 
Brazier  standing  directly  behind  him,  with  her  hair 
dressed,  a  pair  of  snowy  shoulders  and  a  dazzling 
bosom  showing  through  a  gauze  neckerchief,  which  was 
trimmed  with  lace ;  she  was  wearing  a  dress  with  a 
tight-fitting  waist,  made  of  grenadine  (a  silk  material 
then  much  the  fashion) ,  with  leg-of-mutton  sleeves  so- 
called,  fastened  at  the  wrists  by  handsome  bracelets. 


232  The  Two  Brothers. 

A  gold  chain  rippled  over  the  crab-girl's  bosom  as 
she  leaned  forward  to  give  Jean-Jacques  his  black  silk 
cap  lest  he  should  take  cold.  The  scene  was  evidently 
studied. 

44  He}* !  "  cried  Joseph,  "  there  's  a  ,fine  woman,  and 
a  rare  one !  She  is  made,  as  they  say,  to  paint. 
What  flesh-tints !  Oh,  the  lovety  tones !  what  surface  ! 
what  curves  !  Ah,  those  shoulders  !  She  's  a  magnifi- 
cent caryatide.  What  a  model  she  would  have  been 
for  one  of  Titian's  Venuses  !  " 

Adolphine  and  Madame  Hochon  thought  he  was  talk- 
ing Greek  ;  but  Agathe  signed  to  them  behind  his  back, 
as  if  to  say  that  she  was  accustomed  to  such  jargon. 

44  So  3'ou  think  a  creature  who  is  depriving  you  of 
\Tour  property  handsome?"  said  Madame  Hochon. 

44  That  doesn't  prevent  her  from  being  a  splendid 
model! — just  plump  enough  not  to  spoil  the  hips  and 
the  general  contour  —  n 

44  My  son,  you  are  not  in  your  studio,"  said  Agathe. 
44  Adolphine  is  here." 

44  Ah,  true!  I  did  wrong.  But  }*ou  must  remember 
that  ever  since  leaving  Paris  I  have  seen  nothing  but 
uglj'  women  —  " 

44  My  dear  godmother,"  said  Agathe  hastily,  44how 
shall  I  be  able  to  meet  my  brother,  if  that  creature  is 
alwa}Ts  with  him  ?  " 

44  Bah!"  said  Joseph.  "I  '11  go  and  see  him  my- 
self. I  don't  think  him  such  an  idiot,  now  I  find  he  has 
the  sense  to  rejoice  his  eyes  with  a  Titian's  Venus." 

44  If  he  were  not  an  idiot,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon, 
who  had  come  in,  44  he  would  have  married  long  ago  and 
had  children ;  and  then  you  would  have  no  chance  at 
the  properly.     It  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  good." 


The  Two  Brothers.  233 


i< 


Your  son's  idea  is  very  good,"  said  Madame 
Hochon  ;  "  lie  ought  to  pay  the  first  visit.  He  can  make 
his  uncle  understand  that  if  you  call  there  he  must  be 
alone." 

"  That  will  affront  Mademoiselle  Brazier,"  said  old 
Hochon.  k'  No,  no,  madame  ;  swallow  the  pill.  If  you 
can't  get  the  whole  propert}-,  secure  a  small  legacy." 

The  Hochons  were  not  clever  enough  to  match  Max. 
In  the   middle   of  breakfast  Kouski    brought   over   a' 
letter  from  Monsieur  Rouget,  addressed  to  his  sister, 
Madame  Bridau.     Madame  Hochon  made  her  husband 
read  it  aloud,  as  follows :  — 

My  dear  Sister,  —  I  learn  from  strangers  of  your  ar- 
rival in  Issoudun.  I  can  guess  the  reason  which  made  you 
prefer  the  house  of  Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon  to  mine; 
but  if  you  will  come  to  see  me  you  shall  be  received  as  you 
ought  to  be.  I  should  certainly  pay  you  the  first  visit  if  my 
health  did  not  compel  me  just  now  to  keep  the  house; 
for  which  1  offer  my  affectionate  regrets.  I  shall  be  de- 
lighted to  see  my  nephew,  whom  I  invite  to  dine  with  me 
to-morrow,  —  young  men  are  less  sensitive  than  women 
about  the  company.  It  will  give  me  pleasure  if  Messrs. 
Baruch  Borniche  and  Francois  Hochon  will  accompany  him. 
Your  affectionate  brother, 

J.-J.  Rouget. 

"  Say  that  we  are  at  breakfast,  but  that  Madame 
Bridau  will  send  an  answer  present^,  and  the  invita- 
tions are  all  accepted,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon  to  the 
servant. 

The  old  man  laid  his  finger  on  his  lips,  to  require 
silence  from  everybodj\  When  the  street-door  was 
shut,  Monsieur  Hochon,  little  suspecting  the  intimacy 
between  his  grandsons  and  Max,  threw  one  of  his 
slyest  looks  at  his  wife  and  Agathe,  remarking,  — 


234  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  He  is  just  as  capable  of  writing  that  note  as  I  am 
of  giving  away  twenty-five  louis  ;  it  is  the  soldier  who  is 
corresponding  with  us  !  " 

"  What  does  that  portend?"  asked  Madame  Hochon. 
"  Well,  never  mind  ;  we  will  answer  him.  As  for  you, 
monsieur,"  she  added,  turning  to  Joseph,  "  you  must 
dine  there;    but  if — " 

The  old  lad}*  was  stopped  short  b}-  a  look  from  her 
husband.  Knowing  how  warm  a  friendship  she  felt  for 
Agathe,  old  Hochon  was  in  dread  lest  she  should  leave 
some  legacy  to  her  goddaughter  in  case  the  latter  lost 
the  Rouget  property.  Though  fifteen  years  older  than 
his  wife,  the  miser  hoped  to  inherit  her  fortune,  and  to 
become  eventually  the  absolute  master  of  their  whole 
property.  That  hope  was  a  fixed  idea  with  him. 
Madame  Hochon  knew  that  the  best  means  of  ob- 
taining a  few  concessions  from  her  husband  was  to 
threaten  him  with  her  will.  Monsieur  Hochon  now 
took  sides  with  his  guests.  An  enormous  fortune  was 
at  stake ;  with  a  sense  of  social  justice,  he  wished 
to  see  it  go  to  the  natural  heirs,  instead  of  being 
pillaged  by  unworthy  outsiders.  Moreover,  the  sooner 
the  matter  was  decided,  the  sooner  he  should  get  rid  of 
his  guests.  Now  that  the  struggle  between  the  inter- 
lopers and  the  heirs,  hitherto  existing  only  in  his  wife's 
mind,  had  become  an  actual  fact,  Monsieur  Hochon's 
keen  intelligence,  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  monotony  of 
provincial  life,  was  fully  roused.  Madame  Hochon  had 
been  agreeably  surprised  that  morning  to  perceive,  from 
a  few  affectionate  words  which  the  old  man  had  said 
to  her  about  Agathe,  that  so  able  and  subtle  an  aux- 
iliary was  on  the  Bridau  side. 

Towards  midday  the  brains  of  Monsieur  and  Madame 


me 


The  Two  Brothers.  235 

Hochon,  of  Agathe,  and  Joseph  (the  latter  much  amazed 
at  the  scrupulous  care  of  the  old  people  in  the  choice  of 
words),  were  delivered  of  the  following  answer,  con- 
cocted solely  for  the  benefit  of  Max  and  Flore :  — 

My  dear  Brother,  —  If  I  have  stayed  away  from  Issou- 
dun,  and  kept  up  no  intercourse  with  any  one,  not  even  with 
you,  the  fault  lies  not  merely  with  the  strange  and  false 
ideas  my  father  conceived  against  me,  but  with  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  my  life  in  Paris ;  for  if  God  made  me  a  happy 
wife,  he  has  also  deeply  afflicted  me  as  a  mother.  You  are 
aware  that  my  son,  your  nephew  Philippe,  lies  under  accu- 
sation of  a  capital  offence  in  consequence  of  his  devotion  to 
the  Emperor.  Therefore  you  can  hardly  be  surprised  if  a 
widow,  compelled  to  take  a  humble  situation  in  a  lottery-office 
for  a  living,  should  come  to  seek  consolation  from  those 
among  whom  she  wras  born. 

The  profession  adopted  by  the  son  who  accompanies  me  is 
one  that  requires  great  talent,  many  sacrifices,  and  prolonged 
studies  before  any  results  can  be  obtained.  Glory  for  an 
artist  precedes  fortune  ;  is  not  that  to  say  that  Joseph,  though 
he  may  bring  honor  to  the  family,  will  still  be  poor?  Your 
sister,  my  dear  Jean-  Jacques,  would  have  borne  in  silence  the 
penalties  of  paternal  injustice,  but  you  will  pardon  a  mother 
for  reminding  you  that  you  have  two  nephews ;  one  of  whom 
carried  the  Emperor's  orders  at  the  battle  of  Montereau  and 
served  in  the  Guard  at  Waterloo,  and  is  now  in  prison  for 
his  devotion  to  Napoleon;  the  other,  from  his  thirteenth 
year,  has  been  impelled  by  natural  gifts  to  enter  a  difficult 
though  glorious  career. 

I  thank  you  for  your  letter,  my  dear  brother,  with  heart- 
felt warmth,  for  my  own  sake,  and  also  for  Joseph's,  who  will 
certainly  accept  your  invitation.  Illness  excuses  everything, 
my  dear  Jean-Jacques,  and  I  shall  therefore  go  to  see  you  in 
your  own  house.  A  sister  is  always  at  home  with  a  brother, 
no  matter  what  may  be  the  life  he  has  adopted. 

I  embrace  you  tenderly.  Agathe  Rouget. 


236  The  Two  Brothers. 

4 4  There's  the  matter  started.  Now,  when  you  see 
him,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon  to  Agathe,  "  3*011  must 
speak  plainly  to  him  about  his  nephews." 

The  letter  was  carried  over  by  Gritte,  who  returned 
ten  minutes  later  to  render  an  account  to  her  masters 
of  all  that  she  had  seen  and  heard,  according  to  a  set- 
tled provincial  custom. 

44  Since  yesterday  Madame  has  had  the  whole  house 
cleaned  up,  which  she  left — " 

44  Whom  do  3-0U  mean  by  Madame?"  asked  old 
Hochon. 

44  That 's  what  they  call  the  Rabouilleuse  over  there," 
answered  Gritte.  44  She  left  the  salon  and  all  Monsieur 
Rouget's  part  of  the  house  in  a  pitiable  state  ;  but  since 
yesterda3'  the  rooms  have  been  made  to  look  like  what 
the3T  were  before  Monsieur  Maxence  went  to  live  there. 
You  can  see  3-our  face  on  the  floors.  La  Vedie  told  me 
that  Kouski  went  off  on  horseback  at  five  o'clock  this 
morning,  and  came  back  at  nine,  bringing  provisions.  It 
is  going  to  be  a  grand  dinner  !  —  a  dinner  fit  for  the  arch- 
bishop of  Bourges  !  There 's  a  fine  bustle  in  the  kitchen, 
and  the3T  are  as  bus3T  as  bees.  The  old  man  sa3rs,  4 1 
want  to  do  honor  to  m3T  nephew,'  and  he  pokes  his  nose 
into  everything.  It  appears  the  Rougets  are  highly 
flattered  03-  the  letter.  Madame  came  and  told  me  so. 
Oh !  she  had  on  such  a  dress  !  I  never  saw  anything 
so  handsome  in  my  life.  Two  diamonds  in  her  ears  !  — 
two  diamonds  that  cost,  Vedie  told  me,  three  thousand 
francs  apiece ;  and  such  lace !  rings  on  her  fingers, 
and  bracelets !  you  'd  think  she  was  a  shrine ;  and  a 
silk  dress  as  fine  as  an  altar-cloth.  So  then  she  said  to 
me,  4  Monsieur  is  delighted  to  find  his  sister  so  amiable, 
and  I  hope  she  will  permit  us  to  pay  her  all  the  atten- 


The  Two  Brothers.  ^237 

tion  she  deserves.  We  shall  count  upon  her  good 
opinion  after  the  welcome  we  mean  to  give  her  son. 
Monsieur  is  very  impatient  to  see  his  nephew.'  Ma- 
dame had  little  black  satin  slippers  ;  and  her  stockings  ! 
my  !  they  were  marvels,  —  flowers  in  silk  and  openwork, 
just  like  lace,  and  you  could  see  her  rosy  little  feet 
through  them.  Oh  !  she  's  in  high  feather,  and  she  had 
a  lovely  little  apron  in  front  of  her  which,  Vedie  says, 
cost  more  than  two  years  of  our  wages  put  together." 

M  Well  done  !  We  shall  have  to  dress  up,"  said  the 
artist  laughing. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  all  this,  Monsieur  Ilochon?  " 
said  the  old  lady  when  Gritte  had  departed. 

Madame  Hochon  made  Agathe  observe  her  husband, 
who  was  sitting  with  his  head  in  his  hands,  his  elbows 
on  the  arms  of  his  chair,  plunged  in  thought. 

' '  You  have  to  do  with  a  Maitre  Bonin ! "  said  the 
old  man  at  last.  "  With  your  ideas,  3'oung  man,"  he 
added,  looking  at  Joseph,  "  3-ou  have  n't  force  enough 
to  struggle  with  a  practised  scoundrel  like  Maxence 
Gilet.  No  matter  what  I  say  to  you,  you  will  commit 
some  folly.  But,  at  any  rate,  tell  me  everything  you 
see,  and  hear,  and  do  to-night.  Go,  and  God  be  with 
you  !  Try  to  get  alone  with  jour  uncle.  If,  in  spite 
of  all  3'our  genius,  you  can't  manage  it,  that  in  itself 
will  throw  some  light  upon  their  scheme.  But  if  you  do 
get  a  moment  alone  with  him,  out  of  ear-shot,  damn  it, 
you  must  pull  the  wool  from  his  eyes  as  to  the  situation 
those  two  have  put  him  in,  and  plead  your  mother's 
cause." 


i 


238  The  Two  Brothers. 


XII. 


At  four  o'clock,  Joseph  crossed  the  open  space  which 
separated  the  Rouget  house  from  the  Hochon  house,  — 
a  sort  of  avenue  of  weakly  lindens,  two  hundred  feet 
long  and  of  the  same  width  as  the  rue  Grande  Narette. 
When  the  nephew  arrived,  Kouski,  in  polished  boots, 
black  cloth  trousers,  white  waistcoat,  and  black  coat, 
announced  him.  The  table  was  set  in  the  large  hall, 
and  Joseph,  who  easily  distinguished  his  uncle,  went  up 
to  him,  kissed  him,  and  bowed  to  Flore  and  Max. 

"We  have  not  seen  each  other  since  I  came  into  the 
world,  my  dear  uncle,"  said  the  painter  gayly ;  M  but 
better  late  than  never." 

"  You  are  very  welcome,  m}r  friend,"  said  the  old 
man,  looking  at  his  nephew  in  a  dull  way. 

"Madame,"  Joseph  said  to  Flore  with  an  artist's 
vivacity,  "this  morning  I  was  envying  my  uncle  the 
pleasure  he  enjoys  in  being  able  to  admire  you  every 
day." 

"  Is  n't  she  beautiful?  "  said  the  old  man,  whose  dim 
eyes  began  to  shine. 

"Beautiful  enough  to  be  the  model  of  a  great 
painter." 

"Nephew,"  said  Rouget,  whose  elbow  Flore  was 
nudging,  "  this  is  Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet ;  a  man  who 
served  the  Emperor,  like  your  brother,  in  the  Imperial 
Guard." 

Joseph  rose,  and  bowed. 


The  Two  Brothers.  239 

"  Your  brother  was  in  the  dragoons,  I  believe,"  said 
Maxence.     "  I  was  only  a  dust- trotter." 

"  On  foot  or  on  horseback,"  said  Flore,  "  }rou  both  of 
you  risked  }Tour  skins." 

Joseph  took  note  of  Max  quite  as  much  as  Max  took 
note  of  Joseph.  Max,  who  got  his  clothes  from  Paris, 
was  dressed  as  the  3'oung  dandies  of  that  day  dressed 
themselves.  A  pair  of  light-blue  cloth  trousers,  made 
with  very  full  plaits,  covered  his  feet  so  that  only  the 
toes  and  the  spurs  of  his  boots  were  seen.  His  waist  was 
pinched  in  by  a  white  waistcoat  with  chased  gold  but- 
tons, which  was  laced  behind  to  serve  as  a  belt.  The 
waistcoat,  buttoned  to  the  throat,  showed  off  his  broad 
chest,  and  a  black  satin  stock  obliged  him  to  hold  his 
head  high,  in  soldierl\T  fashion.  A  handsome  gold  chain 
hung  from  a  waistcoat  pocket,  in  which  the  outline  of 
a  flat  watch  was  barely  seen.  He  was  twisting  a  watch- 
key  of  the  kind  called  a  criquet,  which  Breguet  had 
lately  invented. 

"The  fellow  is  fine-looking,"  thought  Joseph,  admir- 
ing with  a  painter's  eye  the  eager  face,  the  air  of 
strength,  and  the  intellectual  gray  eyes  which  Max  had 
inherited  from  his  father,  the  noble.  "  My  uncle  must 
be  a  fearful  bore,  and  that  handsome  girl  takes  her  com- 
pensations.    It  is  a  triangular  household  ;  I  see  that." 

At  this  instant,  Baruch  and  Francois  entered. 

"  Have  you  been  to  see  the  tower  of  Issoudun?" 
Flore  asked  Joseph.  "  No?  then  if  you  would  like  to 
take  a  little  walk  before  dinner,  which  will  not  be  served 
for  an  hour,  we  will  show  3'ou  the  great  curiosity  of  the 
town." 

"Gladly,"  said  the  artist,  quite  incapable  of  seeing 
the  slightest  impropriety  in  so  doing. 


240  The  Two  Brothers. 

While  Flore  went  to  put  on  her  bonnet,  gloves,  and 
cashmere  shawl,  Joseph  suddenly  jumped  up,  as  if  an 
enchanter  had  touched  him  with  his  wand,  to  look  at 
the  pictures. 

"Ah!  you  have  pictures,  indeed,  uncle!"  he  said, 
examining  the  one  that  had  caught  his  eye. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  old  man.  "They  came  to  us 
from  the  Descoings,  who  bought  them  during  the  Revo- 
lution, when  the  convents  and  churches  in  Berry  were 
dismantled." 

Joseph  was  not  listening ;  he  was  lost  in  admiration  of 
the  pictures. 

"  Magnificent !  "  he  cried.  "  Oh  !  what  painting  !  that 
fellow  didn't  spoil  his  canvas.  Dear,  dear !  better  and 
better,  as  it  is  at  Nicolet's  — " 

"There  are  seven  or  eight  very  large  ones  up  in  the 
garret,  which  were  kept  on  account  of  the  frames,"  said 
Gilet. 

' •  Let  me  see  them  !  "  cried  the  artist ;  and  Max  took 
him  upstairs. 

Joseph  came  down  wildly  enthusiastic.  Max  whispered 
a  word  to  the  Rabouilleuse,  who  took  the  old  man  into 
the  embrasure  of  a  window,  where  Joseph  heard  her 
say  in  a  low  voice,  but  still  so  that  he  could  hear  the 
words :  — 

"Your  nephew  is  a  painter ;  you  don't  care  for  those 
pictures ;  be  kind,  and  give  them  to  him." 

"  It  seems,"  said  Jean-Jacques,  leaning  on  Flore's 
arm  to  reach  the  place  where  Joseph  was  standing  in 
ecstasy  before  an  Albano,  —  tt  it  seems  that  you  are  a 
painter  — " 

"  Only  a  raping  said  Joseph. 

"What  may  that  be?"  asked  Flore. 


The  Two  Brothers.  241 

44  A  beginner,"  replied  Joseph. 

44  Well,"  continued  Jean-Jacques,  4'if  these  pictures 
can  be  of  any  use  to  you  in  your  business,  I  give  them 
to  you,  —  but  without  the  frames.  Oh  !  the  frames  are 
gilt,  and  besides,  they  are  very  funny  ;  I  will  put  — " 

44  Well  done,  uncle  ! "  cried  Joseph,  enchanted  ;  4'  I  '11 
make  you  copies  of  the  same  dimensions,  which  you  can 
put  into  the  frames." 

44  But  that  will  take  3-011  r  time,  and  you  will  want 
canvas  and  colors,"  said  Flore.  "  You  will  have  to 
spend  mone}'.  Come,  Pere  Rouget,  offer  your  nephew 
a  hundred  francs  for  each  copy  ;  here  are  twentj'-seven 
pictures,  and  I  think  there  are  eleven  very  big  ones  in 
the  garret  which  ought  to  cost  double,  —  call  the  whole 
four  thousand  francs.  Oh,  yes,"  she  went  on,  turn- 
ing to  Joseph,  44your  uncle  can  well  afford  to  pay  3-011 
four  thousand  francs  for  making  the  copies,  since  he 
keeps  the  frames  —  but  bless  me  !  you  '11  want  frames  ; 
and  they  say  frames  cost  more  than  pictures ;  there 's 
more  gold  on  them.  Answer,  monsieur,"  she  continued, 
shaking  the  old  man's  arm.  4t  Hein?  it  is  n't  dear ;  your 
nephew  will  take  four  thousand  francs  for  new  pictures 
in  the  place  of  the  old  ones.  It  is,"  she  whispered 
in  his  ear,  44a  very  good  way  to  give  him  four  thousand 
francs  ;  he  does  n't  look  to  me  very  flush — " 

44  Well,  nephew,  I  will  pay  you  four  thousand  francs 
for  the  copies  —  " 

44  No,  no  !  "  said  the  honest  Joseph  ;  44  four  thousand 
francs  and  the  pictures,  that 's  too  much  ;  the  pictures, 
don't  3rou  see,  are  valuable  —  " 

44  Accept,  simpleton!"  seid  Flore;  44  he  is  your 
uncle,  \tou  know." 

44  Very  good,  I  accept,"  said  Joseph,  bewildered  by 
10 


242  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  luck  that  had  befallen  him  ;  for  he  had  recognized  a 
Perugino. 

The  result  was  that  the  artist  beamed  with  satisfac- 
tion as  he  went  out  of  the  house  with  the  Rabouilleuse  on 
his  arm,  all  of  which  helped  Maxence's  plans  immensely. 
Neither  Flore,  nor  Rouget,  nor  Max,  nor  indeed  any 
one  in  Issoudun  knew  the  value  of  the  pictures,  and 
the  crafty  Max  thought  he  had  bought  Flore's  triumph 
for  a  song,  as  she  paraded  triumphantly  before  the  eyes 
of  the  astonished  town,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  mas- 
ter's nephew,  and  evidently  on  the  best  of  terms  with 
him.  People  flocked  to  their  doors  to  see  the  crab-girl's 
triumph  over  the  family.  This  astounding  event  made 
the  sensation  on  which  Max  counted ;  so  that  when 
they  all  returned  at  five  o'clock,  nothing  was  talked  of 
in  every  household  but  the  cordial  understanding  be- 
tween Max  and  Flore  and  the  nephew  of  old  Rouget. 
The  incident  of  the  pictures  and  the  four  thousand 
francs  circulated  already.  The  dinner,  at  which  Lous- 
teau,  one  of  the  court  judges,  and  the  Mayor  of  Issou- 
dun were  present,  was  splendid.  It  was  one  of  those 
provincial  dinners  lasting  five  hours.  The  most  exqui- 
site wines  enlivened  the  conversation.  B\-  nine  o'clock, 
at  dessert,  the  painter,  seated  opposite  to  his  uncle,  and 
between  Flore  and  Max,  had  fraternized  with  the  soldier, 
and  thought  him  the  best  fellow  on  earth.  Joseph  re- 
turned home  at  eleven  o'clock  somewhat  tips}'.  As  to 
old  Rouget,  Kouski  carried  him  to  his  bed  dead-drunk ; 
he  had  eaten  as  though  he  were  an  actor  from  foreign 
parts,  and  had  soaked  up  the  wine  like  the  sands  of  the 
desert. 

"  Well,"  said  Max  when  he  was  alone  with  Flore, 
u  is  n't  this  better  than  making  faces  at  them  ?     The 


The  Two  Brothers.  243 

Bridaus  are  well  received,  they  get  small  presents,  and 
are  smothered  with  attentions,  and  the  end  of  it  is  they 
will  sing  our  praises ;  they  will  go  away  satisfied  and 
leave  us  in  peace.  To-morrow  morning  you  and  I  and 
Kouski  will  take  down  all  those  pictures  and  send  them 
over  to  the  painter,  so  that  he  shall  see  them  when  he 
wakes  up.  We  will  put  the  frames  in  the  garret,  and 
cover  the  walls  with  one  of  those  varnished  papers 
which  represent  scenes  from  Telemachus,  such  as  I 
have  seen  at  Monsieur  Mouilleron's." 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  much  prettier !  "  said  Flore. 

On  the  morrow,  Joseph  did  not  wake  up  till  midday. 
From  his  bed  he  saw  the  pictures,  which  had  been 
brought  in  while  he  was  asleep,  leaning  one  against 
another  on  the  opposite  wall.  While  he  examined 
them  anew,  recognizing  each  masterpiece,  studying  the 
manner  of  each  painter,  and  searching  for  the  signa- 
tures, his  mother  had  gone  to  see  and  thank  her 
brother,  urged  thereto  by  old  Hochon,  who,  having 
heard  of  the  follies  the  painter  had  committed  the  night 
before,  almost  despaired  of  the  Bridau  cause. 

"  Your  adversaries  have  the  cunning  of  foxes,"  he 
said  to  Agathe.  M  In  all  my  days  I  never  saw  a  man 
carry  things  with  such  a  high  hand  as  that  soldier : 
they  saj~  war  educates  3roung  men  !  Joseph  has  let  him- 
self be  fooled.  The}'  have  shut  his  mouth  with  wine, 
and  those  miserable  pictures,  and  four  thousand  francs  ! 
Your  artist  has  n't  cost  Maxence  much ! " 

The  long-headed  old  man  instructed  Madame  Bridau 
carefully  as  to  the  line  of  conduct  she  ought  to  pursue, 
—  advising  her  to  enter  into  Maxence's  ideas  and  cajole 
Flore,  so  as  to  set  up  a  sort  of  intimacy  with  her,  and 
thus  obtain  a  few  moments'  interview  with  Jean-Jacques 


244  The  Two  Brothers. 

alone.  Madame  Bridau  was  very  warmly  received  by 
her  brother,  to  whom  Flore  had  taught  his  lesson.  The 
old  man  was  in  bed,  quite  ill  from  the  excesses  of  the 
night  before.  As  Agathe,  under  the  circumstances, 
could  scarcely  begin  at  once  to  speak  of  famih-  matters, 
Max  thought  it  proper  and  magnanimous  to  leave  the 
brother  and  sister  alone  together.  The  calculation  was 
a  good  one.  Poor  Agathe  found  her  brother  so  ill  that 
she  would  not  deprive  him  of  Madame  Brazier's  care. 

"  Besides,"  she  said  to  the  old  bachelor,  "  I  wish  to 
know  a  person  to  whom  I  am  grateful  for  the  happiness 
of  my  brother." 

These  words  gave  evident  pleasure  to  the  old  man, 
who  rang  for  Madame  Flore.  Flore,  as  we  may  well 
believe,  was  not  far  off.  The  female  antagonists  bowed 
to  each  other.  The  Rabouilleuse  showed  the  most  ser- 
vile attentions  and  the  utmost  tenderness  to  her  mas- 
ter ;  fancied  his  head  was  too  low,  beat  up  the  pillows, 
and  took  care  of  him  like  a  bride  of  3Testerday.  The 
poor  creature  received  it  with  a  rush  of  feeling. 

"  We  owe  3rou  much  gratitude,  mademoiselle,"  said 
Agathe,  "for  the  proofs  of  attachment  30U  have  so 
long  given  to  my  brother,  and  for  the  way  in  which 
3'ou  watch  over  his  happiness." 

M  That  is  true,  my  dear  Agathe,"  said  the  old  man  ; 
"  she  has  taught  me  what  happiness  is  ;  she  is  a  woman 
of  excellent  qualities." 

"And  therefore,  my  dear  brother,  you  ought  to 
have  recompensed  Mademoiselle  03'  making  her  3Tour 
wife.  Yes !  I  am  too  sincere  in  nry  religion  not  to 
wish  to  see  3-011  obey  the  precepts  of  the  church.  You 
would  each  be  more  tranquil  in  mind  if  yon  were  not  at 
variance  with  morality  and   the   laws.     I   have   come 


The  Two  Brothers.  245 

here,  my  dear  brother,  to  ask  for  help  in  my  affliction ; 
but  do  not  suppose  that  we  wish  to  make  any  remon- 
strance as  to  the  manner  in  which  you  may  dispose  of 
3-our  property  —  " 

"  Madame,"  said  Flore,  "  we  know  how  unjust  your 
father  was  to  you.  Monsieur,  here,  can  tell  you,"  she 
went  on,  looking  fixedly  at  her  victim,  "that  the  only 
quarrels  we  have  ever  had  were  about  you.  I  have 
always  told  him  that  he  owes  you  part  of  the  fortune 
he  received  from  his  father,  and  your  father,  my  bene- 
factor, —  for  he  wras  my  benefactor,"  she  added  in  a 
tearful  voice  ;  "  I  shall  ever  remember  him  !  But  your 
brother,  madame,  has  listened  to  reason  —  " 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  man,  "when  I  make  my  will 
3'ou  shall  not  be  forgotten." 

"  Don't  talk  of  these  things,  my  dear  brother;  3-ou 
do  not  yet  know  m}r  nature." 

After  such  a  beginning,  it  is  easjT  to  imagine  how 
the  visit  went  on.  Rouget  invited  his  sister  to  dinner 
on  the  next  day  but  one. 

We  ma}r  here  mention  that  during  these  three  days 
the  Knights  of  Idleness  captured  an  immense  quantity  of 
rats  and  mice,  which  were  kept  half-famished  until  the}' 
were  let  loose  in  the  grain  one  fine  night,  to  the  number  of 
four  hundred  and  thirty-six,  of  which  some  were  breed- 
ing mothers.  Not  content  with  providing  Fario's  store- 
house with  these  boarders,  the  Knights  made  holes  in 
the  roof  of  the  old  church  and  put  in  a  dozen  pigeons, 
taken  from  as  many  different  farms.  These  four-footed 
and  feathered  creatures  held  high  revels,  —  all  the  more 
securely  because  the  watchman  was  enticed  awa}'  b}T  a 
fellow  who  kept  him  drunk  from  morning  till  night,  so 
that  he  took  no  care  of  his  master's  property. 


246  The  Two  Brothers. 

Madame  Bridau  believed,  contrary  to  the  opinion  of 
old  Hochon,  that  her  brother  had  as  yet  made  no  will ; 
she  intended  asking  him  what  were  his  intentions  re- 
specting Mademoiselle  Brazier,  as  soon  as  she  could 
take  a  walk  with  him  alone,  —  a  hope  which  Flore  and 
Maxence  wTere  always  holding  out  to  her,  and,  of  course, 
always  disappointing. 

Meantime  the  Knights  were  searching  for  a  wa}'  to 
put  the  Parisians  to  flight,  and  finding  none  that  were 
not  impracticable  follies. 

At  the  end  of  a  week  —  half  the  time  the  Parisians 
were  to  stay  in  Issoudun  —  the  Bridaus  were  no  far- 
ther advanced  in  their  object  than  when  the}*  came. 

"  Your  lawyer  does  not  understand  the  provinces," 
said  old  Hochon  to  Madame  Bridau.  "  What  you  have 
come  to  do  can't  be  done  in  two  weeks,  nor  in  two 
years  ;  you  ought  never  to  leave  your  brother,  but  live 
here  and  try  to  give  him  some  ideas  of  religion.  You 
cannot  countermine  the  fortifications  of  Flore  and  Max- 
ence without  getting  a  priest  to  sap  them.  That  is  my 
advice,  and  it  is  high  time  to  set  about  it." 

"  You  certainly  have  very  singular  ideas  about  the 
clergy,"  said  Madame  Hochon  to  her  husband. 

"  Bah  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  man,  u  that 's  just  like 
you  pious  women." 

kt  God  would  never  bless  an  enterprise  undertaken  in 
a  sacrilegious  spirit,"  said  Madame  Bridau.  "  Use  re- 
ligion for  such  a  purpose !  WI13',  we  should  be  more 
criminal  than  Flore." 

This  conversation  took  place  at  breakfast,  —  Francois 
and  Baruch  listening  with  all  their  ears. 

u  Sacrilege  !  "  exclaimed  old  Hochon.  "  If  some 
good  abbe,  keen  as  I  have  known  many  of  them  to  be, 


The  Two  Brothers.  247 

knew  what  a  dilemma  you  are  in,  he  would  not  think  it 
sacrilege  to  bring  your  brother's  lost  soul  back  to  God, 
and  call  him  to  repentance  for  his  sins,  b\*  forcing  him 
to  send  away  the  woman  who  causes  the  scandal  (with 
a  proper  provision,  of  course),  and  showing  him  how  to 
set  his  conscience  at  rest  by  giving  a  few  thousand 
francs  a  year  to  the  seminary  of  the  archbishop  and 
leaving  his  property  to  the  rightful  heirs." 

The  passive  obedience  which  the  old  miser  had  al- 
ways exacted  from  his  children,  and  now  from  his 
grandchildren  (who  were  under  his  guardianship  and  for 
whom  he  was  amassing  a  small  fortune,  doing  for  them, 
he  said,  just  as  he  would  for  himself),  prevented  Baruch 
and  Francois  from  showing  signs  of  surprise  or  disap- 
proval ;  but  they  exchanged  significant  glances  express- 
ing how  dangerous  and  fatal  such  a  scheme  would  be  to 
Max's  interest. 

"The  fact  is,  madame,"  said  Baruch,  "that  if  you 
want  to  secure  your  brother's  propert}T,  the  only  sure 
and  true  way  will  be  to  stay  in  Issoudun  for  the  neces- 
sary length  of  time  —  " 

"Mother,"  said  Joseph  hastily,  "you  had  better 
write  to  Desroches  about  all  this.  As  for  me,  I  ask 
nothing  more  than  what  my  uncle  has  already  given 
me." 

After  fully  recognizing  the  great  value  of  his  thirty- 
nine  pictures,  Joseph  had  carefully  unnailed  the  can- 
vases and  fastened  paper  over  them,  gumming  it  at  the 
edges  with  ordinary  glue  ;  he  then  laid  them  one  above 
another  in  an  enormous  wooden  box,  which  he  sent  to 
Desroches  by  the  carrier's  waggon,  proposing  to  write 
him  a  letter  about  it  by  post.  This  precious  freight  had 
been  sent  off  the  night  before. 


248  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  You  are  satisfied  with  a  pretty  poor  bargain,"  said 
Monsieur  Hochon. 

"  I  can  easily  get  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs 
for  those  pictures,"  replied  Joseph. 

"Painter's  nonsense!"  exclaimed  old  Hochon,  giv- 
ing Joseph  a  peculiar  look. 

''Mother,"  said  Joseph,  "I  am  going  to  write  to 
Desroches  and  explain  to  him  the  state  of  things  here. 
If  he  advises  }tou  to  remain,  you  had  better  do  so.  As 
for  your  situation,  we  can  alwaj's  find  you  another 
like  it." 

"  My  dear  Joseph,"  said  Madame  Hochon,  following 
him  as  he  left  the  table,  "  I  don't  know  anything  about 
your  uncle's  pictures,  but  they  ought  to  be  good,  judging 
by  the  places  from  which  they  came.  If  they  are  worth 
only  forty  thousand  francs,  —  a  thousand  francs  apiece, 
—  tell  no  one.  Though  my  grandsons  are  discreet  and 
well-behaved,  they  might,  without  intending  harm, 
speak  of  this  windfall;  it  would  be  known  all  over 
Issoudun  ;  and  it  is  veiy  important  that  our  adversaries 
should  not  suspect  it.     You  behave  like  a  child !  " 

In  fact,  before  evening  many  persons  in  Issoudun, 
including  Max,  were  informed  of  this  estimate,  which 
had  the  immediate  effect  of  causing  a  search  for  all  the 
old  paintings  which  no  one  had  ever  cared  for,  and  the 
appearance  of  many  execrable  daubs.  Max  repented 
having  driven  the  old  man  into  giving  away  the  pictures, 
and  the  rage  he  felt  against  the  heirs  after  hearing  from 
Baruch  old  Hochon's  ecclesiastical  scheme,  was  in- 
creased by  what  he  termed  his  own  stupidity.  The 
influence  of  religion  upon  such  a  feeble  creature  as 
Rouget  was  the  one  thing  to  fear.  The  news  brought 
by  his  two  comrades  decided  Maxence  Gilet  to  turn  all 


The  Two  Brothers.  249 

Rouget's  investments  into  monej',  and  to  borrow  upon 
his  landed  property,  so  as  to  buy  into  the  Funds  as  soon 
as  possible  ;  but  he  considered  it  even  more  important 
to  get  rid  of  the  Parisians  at  once.  The  genius  of  the 
Mascarilles  and  Scapins  put  together  would  hardly  have 
solved  the  latter  problem  easily. 

Flore,  acting  by  Max's  advice,  pretended  that  Mon- 
sieur was  too  feeble  to  take  walks,  and  that  he  ought, 
at  his  age,  to  have  a  carriage.  This  pretext  grew  out 
of  the  necessity  of  not  exciting  inquiry  when  they  went 
to  Bourges,  Vierzon,  Chateauroux,  Vatan,  and  all  the 
other  places  where  the  project  of  withdrawing  invest- 
ments obliged  Max  and  Flore  to  betake  themselves 
with  Rouget.  At  the  close  of  the  week,  all  Issoudun 
was  amazed  to  learn  that  the  old  man  had  gone  to 
Bourges  to  bu}r  a  carriage,  —  a  step  which  the  Knights 
of  Idleness  regarded  as  favorable  to  the  Rabouilleuse. 
Flore  and  Max  selected  a  hideous  berlingot,  with 
cracked  leather  curtains  and  windows  without  glass, 
aged  twenty-two  years  and  nine  campaigns,  sold  on  the 
decease  of  a  colonel,  the  friend  of  grand-marshal  Ber- 
trand,  who,  during  the  absence  of  that  faithful  com- 
panion of  the  P^mperor,  was  left  in  charge  of  the  affairs 
of  Berry.  This  berlingot,  painted  bright  green,  was 
somewhat  like  a  caleche,  though  shafts  had  taken  the 
place  of  a  pole,  so  that  it  could  be  driven  with  one 
horse.  It  belonged  to  a  class  of  carriages  brought 
into  vogue  by  diminished  fortunes,  which  at  that  time 
bore  the  candid  name  of  demi-fortune ;  at  its  first 
introduction  it  was  called  a  seringue.  The  cloth  lining 
of  this  demi-fortune,  sold  under  the  name  of  caleche, 
was  moth-eaten  ;  its  gimps  looked  like  the  chevrons  of 
an  old  Invalide  ;  its  rusty  joints  squeaked,  — but  it  only 


250  The  Two  Brothers. 

cost  four  hundred  and  fifty  francs  ;  and  Max  bought  a 
good  stout  mare,  trained  to  harness,  from  an  officer  of  a 
regiment  then  stationed  at  Bourges.  He  had  the  car- 
riage repainted  a  dark  brown,  and  bought  a  tolerable 
harness  at  a  bargain.  The  whole  town  of  Issoudun  was 
shaken  to  its  centre  in  expectation  of  Pere  Rouget's 
equipage ;  and  on  the  occasion  of  its  first  appearance, 
every  household  was  on  its  door-step  and  curious  faces 
were  at  all  the  windows. 

The  second  time  the  old  bachelor  went  out  he  drove 
to  Bourges,  where,  to  escape  the  trouble  of  attending 
personally  to  the  business,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  being 
ordered  to  do  so  by  Flore,  he  went  before  a  notary  and 
signed  a  power  of  attorney  in  favor  of  M  axe  nee  Gilet, 
enabling  him  to  make  all  the  transfers  enumerated  in 
the  document.  Flore  reserved  to  herself  the  business 
of  making  Monsieur  sell  out  the  investments  in  Issou- 
dun and  its  immediate  neighborhood.  The  principal 
notar3T  in  Bourges  was  requested  by  Rouget  to  get  him 
a  loan  of  one  hundred  and  fort}'  thousand  francs  on  his 
landed  estate.  Nothing  was  known  at  Issoudun  of 
these  proceedings,  which  were  secretly  and  cleverly  car- 
ried out.  Maxence,  who  was  a  good  rider,  went  with 
his  own  horse  to  Bourges  and  back  between  five  in  the 
morning  and  five  in  the  afternoon.  Flore  never  left  the 
old  bachelor.  Rouget  consented  without  objection  to 
the  action  Flore  dictated  to  him ;  but  he  insisted  that 
the  investment  in  the  Funds,  producing  fifty  thousand 
francs  a  year,  should  stand  in  Flore's  name  as  hold- 
ing a  life-interest  only,  and  in  his  as  owner  of  the 
principal.  The  tenacity  the  old  man  displa}Ted  in  the 
domestic  disputes  which  this  idea  created  caused  Max 
a  good  deal  of  anxiety  ;  he  thought  he  could  see  the 


The  Two  Brothers.  251 

result  of  reflections  inspired  b}T  the  sight  of  the  natural 
heirs. 

Amid  all  these  important  movements,  which  Max 
concealed  from  the  knowledge  of  everyone,  he  forgot 
the  Spaniard  and  his  granar}-.  Fario  came  back  to 
Issoudun  to  deliver  his  corn,  after  various  trips  and 
business  manoeuvres  undertaken  to  raise  the  price  of 
cereals.  The  morning  after  his  arrival  he  noticed  that 
the  roof  of  the  church  of  the  Capuchins  opposite  to 
where  he  lived  was  black  with  pigeons.  He  cursed 
himself  for  having  neglected  to  examine  its  condition, 
and  hurried  over  to  look  into  his  storehouse,  where  he 
found  half  his  grain  devoured.  Thousands  of  mice- 
marks  and  rat-marks  scattered  about  showed  a  second 
cause  of  ruin.  The  church  was  a  Noah's-ark.  But 
anger  turned  the  Spaniard  white  as  a  bit  of  cambric 
when,  tiying  to  estimate  the  extent  of  the  destruction 
and  his  consequent  losses,  he  noticed  that  the  grain  at 
the  bottom  of  the  heap,  near  the  floor,  was  sprouting 
from  the  effects  of  water,  which  Max  had  managed  to 
introduce  hy  means  of  tin  tubes  into  the  very  centre  of 
the  pile  of  wheat.  The  pigeons  and  the  rats  could  be 
explained  by  animal  instinct ;  but  the  hand  of  man  was 
plainly  visible  in  this  last  sign  of  malignity. 

Fario  sat  down  on  the  steps  of  a  chapel  altar,  holding 
his  head  between  his  hands.  After  half  an  hour  of  Span- 
ish reflections,  he  spied  the  squirrel,  which  Goddet  could 
not  refrain  from  giving  him  as  a  guest,  playing  with  its 
tail  upon  a  cross-beam,  on  the  middle  of  which  rested  one 
of  the  uprights  that  supported  the  roof.  The  Spaniard 
rose  and  turned  to  his  watchman  with  a  face  that  was  as 
calm  and  cold  as  an  Arab's.  He  made  no  complaint, 
but  went  home,  hired  laborers  to  gather  into  sacks  what 


252  The  Two  Brothers. 

remained  of  the  sound  grain,  and  to  spread  in  the  sun 
all  that  was  moist,  so  as  to  save  as  much  as  possible ; 
then,  after  estimating  that  his  losses  amounted  to  about 
three  fifths,  he  attended  to  filling  his  orders.  But  his 
previous  manipulations  of  the  market  had  raised  the 
price  of  cereals,  and  he  lost  on  the  three  fifths  he  was 
obliged  to  buy  to  fill  his  orders ;  so  that  his  losses 
amounted  really  to  more  than  half.  The  Spaniard,  who 
had  no  enemies,  at  once  attributed  this  revenge  to  Gilet. 
He  was  convinced  that  Maxence  and  some  others  were 
the  authors  of  all  the  nocturnal  mischief,  and  had  in 
all  probability  carried  his  cart  up  the  embankment  of 
the  tower,  and  now  intended  to  amuse  themselves  b}' 
ruining  him.  It  was  a  matter  to  him  of  over  three 
thousand  francs,  —  very  nearly  the  whole  capital  he  had 
laboriously  scraped  together  since  the  peace.  Driven 
b}*  the  desire  for  vengeance,  the  man  now  displayed 
the  cunning  and  the  stealtlry  persistence  of  a  detective 
to  whom  a  large  reward  is  offered.  Hiding  at  night  in 
different  parts  of  Issoudun,  he  soon  acquired  proof  of 
the  proceedings  of  the  Knights  of  Idleness ;  he  saw 
them  all,  counted  them,  watched  their  rendezvous,  and 
knew  of  their  suppers  at  Mere  Cognette's ;  after  that 
he  lay  in  wait  to  witness  one  of  their  deeds,  and  thus 
became  well  informed  as  to  their  nocturnal  habits. 

In  spite  of  Max's  journeys  and  pre-occupations,  he 
had  no  intention  of  neglecting  his  nightly  employ- 
ments, —  first,  because  he  did  not  wish  his  comrades  to 
suspect  the  secret  of  his  operations  with  Pere  Rouget's 
property  ;  and  secondly,  to  keep  the  Knights  well  in 
hand.  They  were  therefore  convened  for  the  prepar- 
ation of  a  prank  which  might  deserve  to  be  talked  of 
for  years  to  come.     Poisoned  meat  was  to  be  thrown 


The  Two  Brothers.  253 

on  a  given  night  to  every  watch-dog  in  the  town  and  in 
the  environs.  Fario  overheard  them  congratulating  each 
other,  as  they  came  out  from  a  supper  at  the  Cognettes', 
on  the  probable  success  of  the  performance,  and  laugh- 
ing over  the  general  mourning  that  would  follow  this 
novel  massacre  of  the  innocents,  —  revelling,  moreover, 
in  the  apprehensions  it  would  excite  as  to  the  sinister 
object  of  depriving  all  the  households  of  their  guardian 
watch-dogs. 

"  It  will  make  people  forget  Fario's  cart,"  said 
Goddet. 

Fario  did  not  need  that  speech  to  confirm  his  sus 
picions  ;   besides,  his  mind  was  already  made  up. 

After  three  weeks'  stay  in  Issoudun,  Agathe  was 
convinced,  and  so  was  Madame  Hochon,  of  the  truth 
of  the  old  miser's  observation,  that  it  would  take  jears 
to  destro}T  the  influence  which  Max  and  the  Rabouilleuse 
had  acquired  over  her  brother.  She  had  made  no 
progress  in  Jean-Jacques's  confidence,  and  she  was 
never  left  alone  with  him.  On  the  other  hand,  Made- 
moiselle Brazier  triumphed  openty  over  the  heirs  b}T 
taking  Agathe  to  drive  in  the  caleche,  sitting  beside  her 
on  the  back  seat,  while  Monsieur  Rouget  and  his  nephew 
occupied  the  front.  Mother  and  son  impatiently  awaited 
an  answer  to  the  confidential  letter  the}'  had  written  to 
Desroches.  The  day  before  the  night  on  which  the  dogs 
were  to  be  poisoned,  Joseph,  who  was  nearly  bored  to 
death  in  Issoudun,  received  two  letters :  the  first  from 
the  great  painter  Schinner,  —  whose  age  allowed  him  a 
closer  intimacy  than  Joseph  could  have  with  Gros,  their 
master,  —  and  the  second  from  Desroches. 

Here  is  the  first,  postmarked  Beaumont-sur-Oise :  — 


254  The  Two  Brothers. 

My  dear  Joseph,  —  I  have  just  finished  the  princi- 
pal panel-paintings  at  the  chateau  de  Presles  for  the  Comte 
de  Serizy.  I  have  left  all  the  mouldings  and  the  decorative 
painting;  and  I  have  recommended  you  so  strongly  to  the 
count,  and  also  to  Grindot  the  architect,  that  you  have 
nothing  to  do  but  pick  up  your  brushes  and  come  at  once. 
Prices  are  arranged  to  please  you.  I  am  off  to  Italy  with 
my  wife;  so  you  can  have  Mistigris  to  help  you  along.  The 
young  scamp  has  talent,  and  I  put  him  at  your  disposal. 
He  is  twittering  like  a  sparrow  at  the  very  idea  of  amusing 
himself  at  the  chateau  de  Presles. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Joseph ;  if  I  am  still  absent,  and  should 
send  nothing  to  next  year's  Salon,  you  must  take  my  place. 
Yes,  dear  Jo  jo,  I  know  your  picture  is  a  masterpiece,  but  a 
masterpiece  which  will  rouse  a  hue  and  cry  about  roman- 
ticism; you  are  doomed  to  lead  the  life  of  a  devil  in  holy 
water.     Adieu. 

Thy  friend, 

Schinner. 

Here  follows  the  letter  of  Desroches  :  — 

My  dear  Joseph,  —  Your  Monsieur  Hochon  strikes  me 
as  an  old  man  full  of  common-sense,  and  you  give  me  a  high 
idea  of  his  methods  ;  he  is  perfectly  right.  My  advice,  since 
you  ask  it,  is  that  your  mother  should  remain  at  Issouduu  with 
Madame  Hochon,  paying  a  small  board, — say  four  hundred 
francs  a  year,  —  to  reimburse  her  hosts  for  what  she  eats. 
Madame  Bridau  ought,  in  my  opinion,  to  follow  Monsieur 
Hochon 's  advice  in  everything  ;  for  your  excellent  mother 
will  have  many  scruples  in  dealing  with  persons  who  have 
nf>  scruple  at  all,  and  whose  behavior  to  her  is  a  master- 
stroke of  policy.  That  Maxence,  you  are  right  enough,  is 
dangerous.  He  is  another  Philippe,  but  of  a  different  cali- 
/  bre.  The  scoundrel  makes  his  vices  serve  his  fortunes,  and 
gets  his  amusement  gratis  ;  whereas  your  brother's  follies  are 
never  useful  to  him.  All  that  you  say  alarms  me,  but  I  could 
do  no  good  by  going  to  Issouduu.     Monsieur  Hochon,  acting 


The  Two  Brothers.  255 

behind  your  mother,  will  be  more  useful  to  you  than  I.  As 
for  you,  you  had  better  come  back  here;  you  are  good  for 
nothing  in  a  matter  which  requires  continual  attention,  care- 
ful observation,  servile  civilities,  discretion  in  speech,  and  a 
dissimulation  of  manner  and  gesture  which  is  wholly  against 
the  grain  of  artists. 

If  they  have  told  you  no  will  has  been  made,  you  may  be 
quite  sure  they  have  possessed  one  for  a  long  time.  But 
wills  can  be  revoked,  and  as  long  as  your  fool  of  an  uncle 
lives  he  is  no  doubt  susceptible  of  being  worked  upon  by 
remorse  and  religion.  Your  inheritance  will  be  the  result  of 
a  combat  between  the  Church  and  the.  Rabouilleuse.  There 
will  inevitably  come  a  time  when  that  woman  will  lose  her 
grip  on  the  old  man,  and  religion  will  be  all-powerful.  So 
long  as  your  uncle  makes  no  gift  of  the  property  during  his 
lifetime,  and  does  not  change  the  nature  of  his  estate,  all 
may  come  right  whenever  religion  gets  the  upper  hand. 
For  this  reason,  you  must  beg  Monsieur  Hochon  to  keep  an 
eye,  as  well  as  he  can,  on  the  condition  of  your  uncle's 
property.  It  is  necessary  to  know  if  the  real  estate  is  mort- 
gaged, and  if  so,  where  and  in  whose  name  the  proceeds  are 
invested.  It  is  so  easy  to  terrify  an  old  man  with  fears 
about  his  life,  in  case  you  find  him  despoiling  his  own 
property  for  the  sake  of  these  interlopers,  that  almost  any 
heir  with  a  little  adroitness  could  stop  the  spoliation  at  the 
outset.  But  how  should  your  mother,  with  her  ignorance  of 
the  world,  her  disinterestedness,  and  her  religious  ideas,  know 
how  to  manage  such  an  affair?  However,  I  am  not  able  to 
throw  any  light  on  the  matter.  All  that  you  have  done  so 
far  has  probably  given  the  alarm,  and  your  adversaries  may 
already  have  secured  themselves  — 

"That  is  what  I  call  an  opinion  in  good  shape" 
exclaimed  Monsieur  Hochon,  proud  of  being  himself 
appreciated  by  a  Parisian  lawyer. 

u  Oh !  Desroches  is  a  famous  fellow,"  answered 
Joseph. 


256  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  It  would  be  well  to  read  that  letter  to  the  twn 
women,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  There  it  is,"  said  Joseph,  giving  it  to  him  ;  "  as  to 
me,  I  want  to  be  off  to-morrow  ;  and  I  am  now  going  to 
say  good-bv  to  my  uncle." 

"Ah!"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  "I  see  that  Mon- 
sieur Desroches  tells  you  in  a  postscript  to  burn  the 
letter." 

"  You  can  burn  it  after  showing  it  to  my  mother," 
said  the  painter. 

Joseph  dressed,  crossed  the  little  square,  and  called 
on  his  uncle,  who  was  just  finishing  breakfast.  Max 
and  Flore  were  at  table. 

"  Don't  disturb  yourself,  my  dear  uncle  ;  I  have  onty 
come  to  say  good-by." 

"You  are  going?"  said  Max,  exchanging  glances 
with  Flore. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  some  work  to  do  at  the  chateau  of 
Monsieur  de  Seriz}T,  and  I  am  all  the  more  glad  of  it 
because  his  arm  is  long  enough  to  do  a  service  to  my 
my  poor  brother  in  the  Chamber  of  Peers." 

"  Well,  well,  go  and  work;"  said  old  Rouget,  with 
a  silly  air.  Joseph  thought  him  extraordinarily  changed 
within  a  few  days.  "  Men  must  work  —  I  am  sorry  you 
are  going." 

"Oh!  my  mother  will  be  here  some  time  longer," 
remarked  Joseph. 

Max  made  a  movement  with  his  lips  which  the  Ra- 
bouilleuse  observed,  and  which  signified  :  "  They  are 
going  to  try  the  plan  Baruch  warned  me  of." 

"  I  am  very  glad  I  came,"  said  Joseph,  "  for  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  making  your  acquaintance  and  you 
have  enriched  1113'  studio  —  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  257 


t< 


Yes,"  said  Flore,  u  instead  of  enlightening  your 
uncle  on  the  value  of  his  pictures,  which  is  now  esti- 
mated at  over  one  hundred  thousand  francs,  you  have 
packed  them  off'  in  a  hurry  to  Paris.  Poor  dear  man  ! 
he  is  no  better  than  a  baby !  We  have  just  been  told 
of  a  little  treasure  at  Bourges,  —  what  did  they  call 
it?  a  Poussin,  — which  was  in  the  choir  of  the  cathedral 
before  the  Revolution,  and  is  now  worth,  all  by  itself, 
thirty  thousand  francs." 

M  That  was  not  right  of  3*011,  my  nephew,"  said  Jean- 
Jacques,  at  a  sign  from  Max,  which  Joseph  could  not 
see. 

"Come  now,  frankly,"  said  the  soldier,  laughing, 
"  on  your  honor,  what  should  you  say  those  pictures 
were  worth  ?  You  've  made  an  eas3*  haul  out  of  }*our 
uncle  !  and  right  enough,  too,  —  uncles  are  made  to  be 
pillaged.  Nature  deprived  me  of  uncles,  but  damn  it, 
if  I  'd  had  an}'  I  should  have  shown  them  no  mercy." 

u  Did  }rou  know,  monsieur,"  said  Flore  to  Rouget, 
H  what  your  pictures  were  worth?  How  much  did  you 
say,  Monsieur  Joseph?  " 

"  Well,"  answered  the  painter,  who  had  grown  as 
red  as  a  beetroot,  —  "  the  pictures  are  certainly  worth 
something." 

"  The}'  sa}T  you  estimated  them  to  Monsieur  Hochon 
at  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs,"  said  Flore  ; 
"is  that  true?" 

**  Yes,"  said  the  painter,  with  childlike  honesty. 

"And  did  3*011  intend,"  said  Flore  to  the  old  man, 
"  to  give  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  to  your 
nephew?" 

"  Never,  never !  "  cried  Jean- Jacques,  on  whom  Flore 
had  fixed  her  eye. 

17 


258  The  Two  Brothers. 

"There  is  one  way  to  settle  all  this,"  said  the 
painter,  "and  that  is  to  return  them  to  you,  uncle." 

"  No,  no,  keep  them,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  I  shall  send  them  back  to  .you,"  said  Joseph, 
wounded  hy  the  offensive  silence  of  Max  and  Flore. 
"  There  is  something  in  my  brushes  which  will  make  my 
fortune,  without  owing  anything  to  any  one,  even  an 
uncle.  My  respects  to  you,  mademoiselle ;  good-day, 
monsieur  —  " 

And  Joseph  crossed  the  square  in  a  state  of  irrita- 
tion which  artists  can  imagine.  The  entire  Hoehon 
family  were  in  the  salon.  When  they  saw  Joseph  gestic- 
ulating and  talking  to  himself,  the}'  asked  him  what  was 
the  matter.  The  painter,  who  was  as  open  as  the  day, 
related  before  Baruch  and  Francois  the  scene  that  had 
just  taken  place  ;  and  which,  two  hours  later,  thanks  to 
the  two  young  men,  was  the  talk  of  the  whole  town, 
embroidered  with  various  circumstances  that  wrere 
more  or  less  ridiculous.  Some  persons  insisted  that 
the  painter  was  maltreated  by  Max ;  others  that  he 
had  misbehaved  to  Flore,  and  that  Max  had  turned 
him  out  of  doors. 

"What  a  child  3-011  r  son  is!"  said  Hoehon  to  Ma- 
dame Bridau  ;  "  the  booby  is  the  dupe  of  a  scene  which 
they  have  been  keeping  back  for  the  last  day  of  his 
visit.  Max  and  the  Rabouilleuse  have  known  the  value 
of  those  pictures  for  the  last  two  weeks,  —  ever  since 
he  had  the  folly  to  tell  it  before  my  grandsons,  who 
never  rested  till  the}-  had  blurted  it  out  to  all  the  world. 
Your  artist  had  better  have  taken  himself  off  without 
taking  leave." 

"  M3-  son  has  done  right  to  return  the  pictures  if  they 
are  reall3'  so  valuable,"  said  Agathe. 


The  Two  Brothers.  259 

"If  they  are  worth,  as  he  says,  two  hundred  thou- 
sand francs,"  said  old  Hochon,  kfcit  was  folly  to  put 
himself  in  the  way  of  being  obliged  to  return  them. 
You  might  have  had  that,  at  least,  out  of  the  property  ; 
whereas,  as  things  are  going  now,  you  won't  get  any- 
thing. And  this  scene  with  Joseph  is  almost  a  reason 
why  your  brother  should  refuse  to  see  you  again." 


260  The  Two  Brothers. 


XIII. 

Between  midnight  and  one  o'clock,  the  Knights  of 
Idleness  began  their  gratuitous  distribution  of  comesti- 
bles to  the  dogs  of  the  town.  This  memorable  expedi- 
tion was  not  over  till  three  in  the  morning,  the  hour 
at  which  these  reprobates  went  to  sup  at  Cognette's. 
At  half-past  four,  in  the  early  dawn,  thej*  crept  home. 
Just  as  Max  turned  the  corner  of  the  rue  l'Avenier  into 
the  Grande  rue,  Fario,  who  stood  ambushed  in  a  recess, 
struck  a  knife  at  his  heart,  drew  out  the  blade,  and 
escaped  by  the  moat  towards  Vilatte,  wiping  the  blade  of 
his  knife  on  his  handkerchief.  The  Spaniard  washed 
the  handkerchief  in  the  Riviere  forcee,  and  returned 
quietly  to  his  lodgings  at  Saint-Paterne,  where  he  got  in 
by  a  window  he  had  left  open,  and  went  to  bed  :  later, 
he  was  awakened  03-  his  new  watchman,  who  found  him 
fast  asleep. 

As  he  fell,  Max  uttered  a  fearful  cr\T  which  no  one 
could  mistake.  Lousteau-Prangin,  son  of  a  judge,  a 
distant  relation  to  the  family  of  the  sub-delegate,  and 
young  Goddet,  who  lived  at  the  lower  end  of  the  Grande 
rue,  ran  at  full  speed  up  the  street,  calling  to  each 
other,  — 

"  They  are  killing  Max  !     Help  !  help  ! " 

But  not  a  dog  barked  ;  and  all  the  town,  accustomed 
to  the  false  alarms  of  these  nightly  prowlers,  stayed 
quietly  in  their  beds.  When  his  two  comrades  reached 
him,  Max  had  fainted.     It  was  necessary  to  rouse  Mon- 


The  Two  Brothers.  261 

sieur  Goddet,  the  surgeon.  Max  had  recognized  Fario  ; 
but  when  he  came  to  his  senses,  with  several  persons 
about  him,  and  felt  that  his  wound  was  not  mortal,  it 
suddenly  occurred  to  him  to  make  capital  out  of  the 
attack,  and  he  said,  in  a  faint  voice,  — 

"  I  think  I  recognized  that  cursed  painter !  " 

Thereupon  Lousteau-Prangin  ran  off  to  his  father,  the 
judge.  Max  was  carried  home  by  Cognette,  young 
Goddet,  and  two  other  persons.  Mere  Cognette  and 
Monsieur  Goddet  walked  beside  the  stretcher.  Those 
who  carried  the  wounded  man  naturally  looked  across 
at  Monsieur  Hochon's  door  while  waiting  for  Kouski 
to  let  them  in,  and  saw  Monsieur  Hochon's  servant 
sweeping  the  steps.  At  the  old  miser's,  as  everywhere 
else  in  the  provinces,  the  household  was  early  astir. 
The  few  words  uttered  by  Max  had  roused  the  sus- 
picions of  Monsieur  Goddet,  and  he  called  to  the 
woman,  — 

11  Gritte,  is  Monsieur  Joseph  Bridau  in  bed?" 

"Bless  me!"  she  said,  "he  went  out  at  half-past 
four.  I  don't  know  what  ailed  him  ;  he  walked  up  and 
down  his  room  all  night." 

This  simple  answer  drew  forth  such  exclamations  of 
horror  that  the  woman  came  over,  curious  to  know 
what  they  were  carrying  to  old  Rouge t's  house. 

"A  precious  fellow  he  is,  that  painter  of  yours !  " 
they  said  to  her.  And  the  procession  entered  the  house, 
leaving  Gritte  open-mouthed  with  amazement  at  the 
sight  of  Max  in  his  bloody  shirt,  stretched  half-fainting 
on  a  mattress. 

Artists  will  readily  guess  what  ailed  Joseph,  and  kept 
him  restless  all  night.  He  imagined  the  tale  the  bour- 
geoisie of  Issoudun  would  tell  of  him.    They  would  say 


262  The  Two  Brothers. 

he  had  fleeced  his  uncle  ;  that  he  was  everything  but 
what  he  had  tried  to  be,  —  a  loyal  fellow  and  an  hon- 
est artist !  Ah  !  he  would  have  given  his  great  picture 
to  have  flown  like  a  swallow  to  Paris,  and  thrown 
his  uncle's  paintings  at  Max's  nose.  To  be  the  one 
robbed,  and  to  be  thought  the  robber !  —  what  irony ! 
So  at  the  earliest  dawn,  he  had  started  for  the  poplar 
avenue  which  led  to  Tivoli,  to  give  free  course  to  his 
agitation. 

While  the  innocent  fellow  was  vowing,  by  way  of 
consolation,  never  to  return  to  Issoudun,  Max  was 
preparing  a  horrible  outrage  for  his  sensitive  spirit. 
When  Monsieur  Goddet  had  probed  the  wound  and 
discovered  that  the  knife,  turned  aside  by  a  little 
pocket-book,  had  happily  spared  Max's  life  (though 
making  a  serious  wound),  he  did  as  all  doctors,  and 
particularly  county  surgeons,  do ;  he  paved  the  way 
for  his  own  credit  by  "  not  answering  for  the  patient's 
life  ;  "  and  then,  after  dressing  the  soldier's  wound,  and 
stating  the  verdict  of  science  to  the  Rabouilleuse,  Jean- 
Jacques  Rouget,  Kouski,  and  the  Vedie,  he  left  the 
house.  The  Rabouilleuse  came  in  tears  to  her  dear 
Max,  while  Kouski  and  the  Vedie  told  the  assembled 
crowd  that  the  captain  was  in  a  fair  way  to  die.  The 
news  brought  nearly  two  hundred  persons  in  groups 
about  the  place  Saint-Jean  and  the  two  Narettes. 

"  I  sha'  n't  be  a  month  in  bed  ;  and  I  know  who  struck 
the  blow,"  whispered  Max  to  Flore.  "  But  we  '11  profit 
by  it  to  get  rid  of  the  Parisians.  I  have  said  I  thought 
I  recognized  the  painter  ;  so  pretend  that  I  am  expected 
to  die,  and  try  to  have  Joseph  Bridau  arrested.  Let  him 
taste  a  prison  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  I  know  well 
enough  the  mother  will  be  off  in  a  jiffy  for  Paris  when 


The  Two  Brothers.  263 

she  gets  him  out.  And  then  we  need  n't  fear  the 
priests  the}7  talk  of  setting  on  the  old  fool." 

When  Flore  Brazier  came  downstairs,  she  found  the 
assembled  crowd  quite  prepared  to  take  the  impression 
she  meant  to  give  them.  She  went  out  with  tears  in  her 
eyes,  and  related,  sobbing,  how  the  painter,  "who  had 
just  the  face  for  that  sort  of  thing,"  had  been  angry 
with  Max  the  night  before  about  some  pictures  he  had 
"  wormed  out  "  of  Pere  Rouget. 

"  That  brigand  —  for  you  've  only  got  to  look  at  him 
to  see  what  he  is  —  thinks  that  if  Max  were  dead,  his 
uncle  would  leave  him  his  fortune ;  as  if,"  she  cried, 
"a  brother  were  not  more  to  him  than  a  nephew! 
Max  is  Doctor  Rouge  t's  son.  The  old  one  told  me  so 
before  he  died  !  " 

"Ah!  he  meant  to  do  the  deed  just  before  he  left 
Issoudun  ;  he  chose  his  time,  for  he  was  going  away 
to-day,"  said  one  of  the  Knights  of  Idleness. 

"  Max  has  n't  an  enemy  in  Issoudun,"  said  another. 

"  Besides,  Max  recognized  the  painter,"  said  the 
Rabouilleuse. 

"  Where  's  that  cursed  Parisian?  Let  us  find  him  !  " 
the}7  all  cried. 

"Find  him?"  was  the  answer,  "win',  he  left  Mon- 
sieur Hochon's  at  daybreak." 

A  Knight  of  Idleness  ran  off  at  once  to  Monsieur 
Mouilleron.  The  crowd  increased ;  and  the  tumult 
became  threatening.  Excited  groups  filled  up  the 
whole  of  the  Grand e-Narette.  Others  stationed  them- 
selves before  the  church  of  Saint-Jean.  An  assemblage 
gathered  at  the  porte  Vilatte,  which  is  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  Petite-Narette.  Monsieur  Lousteau-Prangin 
and  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  the   commissary  of  police, 


264  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  lieutenant  of  gendarmes,  and  two  of  his  men,  had 
some  difficulty  in  reaching  the  place  Saint-Jean  through 
two  hedges  of  people,  whose  cries  and  exclamations 
could  and  did  prejudice  them  against  the  Parisian  ;  who 
was,  it  is  needless  to  say,  unjustly  accused,  although,  it 
is  true,  circumstances  told  against  him. 

After  a  conference  between  Max  and  the  magistrates, 
Monsieur  Mouilleron  sent  the  commissary  of  police  and 
a  sergeant  with  one  gendarme  to  examine  what,  in  the 
language  of  the  ministry  of  the  interior,  is  called  "  the 
theatre  of  the  crime."  Then  Messieurs  Mouilleron 
and  Lousteau-Prangin,  accompanied  by  the  lieutenant 
of  gendarmes  crossed  over  to  the  Hochon  house,  which 
was  now  guarded  by  two  gendarmes  in  the  garden  and 
two  at  the  front  door.  The  crowd  was  still  increasing. 
The  whole  town  was  surging  in  the  Grande  rue. 

Gritte  had  rushed  terrified  to  her  master,  crying  out : 
•'  Monsieur,  we  shall  be  pillaged  !  the  town  is  in  revolt ; 
Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet  has  been  assassinated ;  he  is 
dying !  and  they  say  it  is  Monsieur  Joseph  who  has 
done  it ! " 

Monsieur  Hochon  dressed  quickly,  and  came  down- 
stairs ;  but  seeing  the  angry  populace,  he  hastily  re- 
treated within  the  house,  and  bolted  the  door.  On 
questioning  Gritte,  he  learned  that  his  guest  had  left 
the  house  at  daybreak,  after  walking  the  floor  all  night 
in  great  agitation,  and  had  not  yet  come  in.  Much 
alarmed,  he  went  to  find  Madame  Hochon,  who  was 
already  awakened  by  the  noise,  and  to  whom  he  told 
the  frightful  news  which,  true  or  false,  was  causing 
almost- a  riot  in  Issoudun. 

"He  is  innocent,  of  course,"  said  Madame  Hochon. 

"  But  before  his  innocence  can  be  proved,  the  crowd 


The  Two  Brothers.  265 

ma}7  get  in  here  and  pillage  us,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon, 
livid  with  fear,  for  he  had  gold  in  his  cellar. 

"  Where  is  Agathe?" 

"  Sound  asleep." 

44 Ah!  so  much  the  better,"  said  Madame  Hochon. 
"  I  wish  she  may  sleep  on  till  the  matter  is  cleared 
up.     Such  a  shock  might  kill  the  poor  child." 

But  Agathe  woke  up  and  came  down  half-dressed  ; 
for  the  evasive  answers  of  Gritte,  whom  she  questioned, 
had  disturbed  both  her  head  and  heart.  She  found 
Madame  Hochon,  looking  very  pale,  with  her  eyes  full 
of  tears,  at  one  of  the  windows  of  the  salon  beside  her 
husband. 

tf  Courage,  m}T  child.  God  sends  us  our  afflictions," 
said  the  old  lady.     "  Joseph  is  accused —  " 

44  Of  what?" 

"  Of  a  bad  action  which  he  could  never  have  com- 
mitted," answered  Madame  Hochon. 

Hearing  the  words,  and  seeing  the  lieutenant  of  gen- 
darmes, who  at  this  moment  entered  the  room  accom- 
panied by  the  two  gentlemen,  Agathe  fainted  away. 

"There  now!"  said  Monsieur  Hochon  to  his  wife 
and  Gritte,  "  carry  off'  Madame  Bridau  ;  women  are 
only  in  the  way  at  these  times.  Take  her  to  her  room 
and  stay  there,  both  of  you.  Sit  down,  gentlemen," 
continued  the  old  man.  "The  mistake  to  which  we 
owe  your  visit  will  soon,  I  hope,  be  cleared  up." 

"Even  if  it  should  be  a  mistake,"  said  Monsieur 
Mouilleron,  "  the  excitement  of  the  crowd  is  so  great, 
and  their  minds  are  so  exasperated,  that  I  fear  for  the 
safety  of  the.  accused.  I  should  like  to  get  him  arrested, 
and  that  might  satisfy  these  people." 

ik  Who    would    ever    have    believed    that   Monsieur 


266  The  Two  Brothers. 

Maxence  Gilet  had  inspired  so  much  affection  in  this 
town?"  said  Lousteau-Frangin. 

'•One  of  my  men  says  there's  a  crowd  of  twelve 
hundred  more  just  coming  in  from  the  faubourg  de 
Rome,"  said  the  lieutenant  of  gendarmes,  "and  they 
are  threatening  death  to  the  assassin." 

"Where  is  your  guest?"  said  Monsieur  Mouilleron 
to  Monsieur  Hochon. 

"  He  has  gone  to  walk  in  the  countiy,  I  believe." 

"Call  Gritte,"  said  the  judge  gravely.  "I  was  in 
hopes  he  had  not  left  the  house.  You  are  aware  that  the 
crime  was  committed  not  far  from  here,  at  daybreak." 

While  Monsieur  Hochon  went  to  find  Gritte,  the  three 
functionaries  looked  at  each  other  significantly. 

"  I  never  liked  that  painter's  face,"  said  the  lieutenant 
to  Monsieur  Mouilleron. 

"MjT  good  woman,"  said  the  judge  to  Gritte,  when 
she  appeared,  "they  say  3011  saw  Monsieur  Joseph 
Bridau  leave  the  house  this  morning?" 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  she  answered,  trembling  like  a  leaf. 

"At  what  hour?" 

"  Just  as  I  was  getting  up  :  he  walked  about  his  room 
all  night,  and  was  dressed  when  I  came  downstairs." 

"Was  it  daylight!" 

"Barely." 

"  Did  he  seem  excited?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  all  of  a  twitter." 

"  Send  one  of  3  our  men  for  my  clerk,"  said  Lonsteau- 
Prangin  to  the  lieutenant,  "  and  tell  him  to  bring  war- 
rants with  him  —  " 

"  Good  God !  don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,"  cried  Mon- 
sieur Hochon.  "  The  young  man's  agitation  may  have 
been  caused  by  something  besides  the  premeditation  of 


The  Two  Brothers.  267 

this  crime.  He  meant  to  return  to  Paris  to-day,  to 
attend  to  a  matter  in  which  Gilet  and  Mademoiselle 
Brazier  had  doubted  his  honor." 

"Yes,  the  affair  of  the  pictures,"  said  Monsieur 
Mouilleron.  M  Those  pictures  caused  a  very  hot  quarrel 
between  them  yesterday,  and  it  is  a  word  and  a  blow 
with  artists,  they  tell  me." 

"Who  is  there  in  Issoudun  who  had  any  object  in 
killing  Gilet?"  said  Lousteau.  "No  one,  —  neither  a 
jealous  husband  nor  anybody  else ;  for  the  fellow  has 
never  harmed  a  soul." 

"  But  what  was  Monsieur  Gilet  doing  in  the  streets 
at  four  in  the  morning  ?  "  remarked  Monsieur  Hochon. 

"Now,  Monsieur  Hochon,  3tou  must  allow  us  to  man- 
age this  affair  in  our  own  wa}*,"  answered  Mouilleron ; 
"3011  don't  know  all :  Gilet  recognized  your  painter." 

At  this  instant  a  clamor  was  heard  from  the  other 
end  of  the  town,  growing  louder  and  louder,  like  the 
roll  of  thunder,  as  it  followed  the  course  of  the  Grande- 
Narette. 

"  Here  he  is  !  here  he  is  !  —  he  's  arrested  ! " 

These  words  .rose  distinctly  on  the  ear  above  the 
hoarse  roar  of  the  populace.  Poor  Joseph,  returning 
quietly  past  the  mill  at  Landrole  intending  to  get  home 
in  time  for  breakfast,  was  spied  by  the  various  groups  of 
people,  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  place  Misere.  Happily 
for  him,  a  couple  of  gendarmes  arrived  on  a  run  in  time 
to  snatch  him  from  the  inhabitants  of  the  faubourg  de 
Rome,  who  had  already  pinioned  him  by  the  arms  and 
were  threatening  him  with  death. 

"Give  way  !  give  way  !  "  cried  the  gendarmes,  calling 
to  some  of  their  comrades  to  help  them,  and  putting 
themselves  one  before  and  the  other  behind  Bridau. 


268  The  Two  Brothers. 

"You  see,  monsieur,"  said  the  one  who  held  the 
painter,  M  it  concerns  our  skin  as  well  as  yours  at  this 
moment.  Innocent  or  guilty,  we  must  protect  you 
against  the  tumult  raised  b}'  the  murder  of  Captain  Gilet. 
And  the  crowd  is  not  satisfied  with  suspecting  you  ;  they 
declare,  hard  as  iron,  that  3*011  are  the  murderer.  Mon- 
sieur Gilet  is  adored  hy  all  the  people,  who  —  look  at 
them  !  —  want  to  take  justice  into  their  own  hands.  Ah  ! 
did  n't  we  see  them,  in  1830,  dusting  the  jackets  of  the 
tax-gatherers  ?  whose  life  is  n't  a  bed  of  roses,  anjTway  !  " 

Joseph  Bridau  grew  as  pale  as  death,  and  collected  all 
his  strength  to  walk  onward. 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  %w  I  am  innocent.     Go  on  !  " 

Poor  artist !  he  was  forced  to  bear  his  cross.  Amid 
the  hooting  and  insults  and  threats  of  the  mob,  he  made 
the  dreadful  transit  from  the  place  Misere  to  the  place 
Saint-Jean.  The  gendarmes  were  obliged  to  draw  their 
sabres  on  the  furious  mob,  which  pelted  them  with  stones. 
One  of  the  officers  was  wounded,  and  Joseph  received 
several  of  the  missiles  on  his  legs,  and  shoulders, 
and  hat. 

"  Here  we  are  ! "  said  one  of  the  geudarmes,  as  they 
entered  Monsieur  Hochon's  hall,  "  and  not  without  dif- 
ficulty, lieutenant." 

M  We  must  now  manage  to  disperse  the  crowd  ;  and 
I  see  but  one  wa}*,  gentlemen,"  said  the  lieutenant  to 
the  magistrates.  "We  must  take  Monsieur  Bridau  to 
the  Palais  accompanied  by  all  of  3'ou  ;  I  and  my  gend- 
armes will  make  a  circle  round  30U.  One  can't  answer 
for  anything  in  presence  of  a  furious  crowd  of  six 
thousand  —  " 

"You  are  right,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  who  was 
trembling  all  the  while  for  his  gold. 


The  Two  Brothers.  269 

"If  that's  your  only  way  to  protect  innocence  in 
Issoudun,"  said  Joseph,  "I  congratulate  you.  I  came 
near  being  stoned  —  " 

"  Do  you  wish  your  friend's  house  to  be  taken  by 
assault  and  pillaged?"  asked  the  lieutenant.  "Could 
we  beat  back  with  our  sabres  a  crowd  of  people  who 
are  pushed  from  behind  by  an  angry  populace  that 
knows  nothing  of  the  forms  of  justice?" 

"  That  will  do,  gentlemen,  let  us  go ;  we  can  come  to 
explanations  later,"  said  Joseph,  who  had  recovered  his 
self-possession. 

"Give  way,  friends!"  said  the  lieutenant  to  the 
crowd  ;  "  he  is  arrested,  and  we  are  taking  him  to  the 
Palais." 

"  Respect  the  law,  friends  ! "  said  Monsieur  Mouilleron. 

"  Wouldn't  you  prefer  to  see  him  guillotined?"  said 
one  of  the  gendarmes  to  an  angry  group. 

"Yes,  yes,  they  shall  guillotine  him!"  shouted  one 
madman. 

"  The}-  are  going  to  guillotine  him  !  "  cried  the  women. 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  end  of  the  Grande - 
Narette  the  crowd  were  shouting:  "  ThejT  are  taking 
him  to  the  guillotine  !  "  "They  found  the  knife  upon 
him!"  "That's  what  Parisians  are!"  "He  carries 
crime  on  his  face  !  " 

Though  all  Joseph's  blood  had  flown  to  his  head,  he 
walked  the  distance  from  the  place  Saint-Jean  to  the 
Palais  with  remarkable  calmness  and  self-possession. 
Nevertheless,  he  was  very  glad  to  find  himself  in  the 
private  office  of  Monsieur  Lousteau-Prangin. 

"  I  need  hardly  tell  you,  gentlemen,  that  I  am  in- 
nocent," said  Joseph,  addressing  Monsieur  Mouilleron, 
Monsieur   Lousteau-Prangin,    and   the   clerk.     "  I  can 


270  The  Two  Brothers. 

only  beg  you  to  assist  me  in  proving  my  innocence.  I 
know  nothing  of  this  affair." 

When  the  judge  had  stated  all  the  suspicious  facts 
which  were  against  him,  ending  with  Max's  declaration, 
Joseph  was  astounded. 

'^But,"  said  he,  "  it  was  past  five  o'clock  when  I 
left  the  house.  I  went  up  the  Grande  rue,  and  at  half- 
past  five  I  wras  standing  looking  up  at  the  facade  of  the 
parish  church  of  Saint-Cyr.  I  talked  there  with  the 
sexton,  who  came  to  ring  the  angelus,  and  asked  him 
for  information  about  the  building,  which  seems  to  me 
fantastic  and  incomplete.  Then  I  passed  through  the 
vegetable-market,  where  some  women  had  already  as- 
sembled. From  there,  crossing  the  place  Misere,  I  went 
as  far  as  the  mill  of  Landrole  by  the  Pont  aux  Anes, 
where  I  watched  the  ducks  for  five  or  six  minutes,  and 
the  miller's  men  must  have  noticed  me.  I  saw  the 
women  going  to  wash ;  they  are  probably  still  there. 
They  made  a  little  fun  of  me,  and  declared  I  was  not 
handsome  ;  I  told  them  it  was  not  all  gold  that  glit- 
tered. From  there,  I  followed  the  long  avenue  to 
Tivoli,  where  I  talked  with  the  gardener.  Pray  have 
these  facts  verified ;  and  do  not  even  arrest  me,  for  I 
give  you  my  word  of  honor  that  I  will  stay  quietly  in 
this  office  till  you  are  convinced  of  nry  innocence." 

These  sensible  words,  said  without  the  least  hesita- 
tion, and  with  the  ease  of  a  man  who  is  perfectly  sure 
of  his  facts,  made  some  impression  on  the  magistrates. 

"  Yes,  we  must  find  all  those  persons  and  summon 
them,"  said  Monsieur  Mouilleron  ;  kt  but  it  is  more  than 
the  affair  of  a  day.  Make  up  your  mind,  therefore,  in 
3'our  own  interests,  to  be  imprisoned  in  the  Palais." 

"  Provided  I  can  write  to  my  mother,  so  as  to  reas- 


The  Two  Brothers.  271 

sure  her,  poor  woman  —  oh  !  you  can  read  the  letter," 
he  added. 

This  request  was  too  just  not  to  be  granted,  and 
Joseph  wrote  the  following  letter :  — 

"  Do  not  be  uneasy,  dear  mother:  the  mistake  of  which  1 
am  a  victim  can  easily  be  rectified;  I  have  already  given 
them  the  means  of  doing  so.  To-morrow,  or  perhaps  this 
evening,  I  shall  be  at  liberty.  I  kiss  you,  and  beg  you  to 
say  to  Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon  how  grieved  I  am  at 
this  affair;  in  which,  however,  I  have  had  no  hand,  —  it  is  the 
result  of  some  chance  which,  as  yet,  I  do  not  understand." 

When  the  note  reached  Madame  Bridau,  she  was 
suffering  from  a  nervous  attack,  and  the  potions  which 
Monsieur  Goddet  was  trying  to  make  her  swallow  were 
powerless  to  soothe  her.  The  reading  of  the  letter 
acted  like  balm ;  after  a  few  quiverings,  Agathe  sub- 
sided into  the  depression  which  always  follows  such 
attacks.  Later,  when  Monsieur  Goddet  returned  to 
his  patient  he  found  her  regretting  that  she  had  ever 
quitted  Paris. 

"  Well,"  said  Madame  Hochon  to  Monsieur  Goddet, 
"  how  is  Monsieur  Gilet?  " 

"  His  wound,  though  serious,  is  not  mortal,"  replied 
the  doctor.  "  With  a  month's  nursing  he  will  be  all 
right.  I  left  him  writing  to  Monsieur  Mouilleron  to 
request  him  to  set  your  son  at  liberty',  madame,"  he 
added,  turning  to  Agathe.  "  Oh  !  Max  is  a  fine  fellow. 
I  told  him  what  a  state  you  were  in,  and  he  then  re- 
membered a  circumstance  which  goes  to  prove  that  the 
assassin  was  not  your  son ;  the  man  wore  list  shoes, 
whereas  it  is  certain  that  Monsieur  Joseph  left  the 
house  in  his  boots  — " 


272  The  Two  Brothers. 

44  Ah!  God  forgive  him  the  harm  he  has  done 
me  —  " 

The  fact  was,  a  man  had  left  a  note  for  Max,  after 
dark,  written  in  type-letters,  which  ran  as  follows  :  — 

"  Captain  Gilet  ought  not  to  let  an  innocent  man  suffer. 
lie  who  struck  the  blow  promises  not  to  strike  again  if 
Monsieur  Gilet  will  have  Monsieur  Joseph  Bridau  set  at 
liberty,  without  naming  the  man  who  did  it." 

After  reading  this  letter  and  burning  it,  Max  wrote 
to  Monsieur  Mouilleron  stating  the  circumstance  of  the 
list  shoes,  as  reported  by  Monsieur  Goddet,  begging 
him  to  set  Joseph  at  liberty,  and  to  come  and  see  him 
that  he  might  explain  the  matter  more  at  length. 

By  the  time  this  letter  was  received,  Monsieur  Lous- 
teau-Prangin  had  verified,  by  the  testimony  of  the  bell- 
ringer,  the  market-women  and  washerwomen,  and  the 
miller's  men,  the  truth  of  Joseph's  explanation.  Max's 
letter  made  his  innocence  only  the  more  certain,  and 
Monsieur  Mouilleron  himself  escorted  him  back  to  the 
Hochons'.  Joseph  was  greeted  with  such  overflowing 
tenderness  by  his  mother  that  the  poor  misunderstood 
son  gave  thanks  to  ill-luck  —  like  the  husband  to  the 
thief,  in  La  P^ontaine's  fable  —  for  a  mishap  which 
brought  him  such  proofs  of  affection. 

44  Oh,"  said  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  with  a  self-satisfied 
air,  4t  I  knew  at  once  by  the  way  you  looked  at  the 
angry  crowd  that  you  were  innocent ;  but  whatever  I 
may  have  thought,  any  one  who  knows  Issoudun  must 
also  know  that  the  onty  waj*  to  protect  3^011  was  to 
make  the  arrest  as  we  did.  Ah !  you  carried  your 
head  high." 

44 1  was  thinking  of  something  else,"  said  the  artist 


The  Two  Brothers.  273 

simply.  "An  officer  in  the  army  told  me  that  he  was 
once  stopped  in  Dalmatia  under  similar  circumstances 
by  an  excited  populace,  in  the  earl}'  morning  as  he  was 
returning  from  a  walk.  This  recollection  came  into 
my  mind,  and  I  looked  at  all  those  heads  with  the  idea 
of  painting  a  revolt  of  the  year  1793.  Besides,  I  kept 
saying  to  myself:  Blackguard  that  I  am  !  I  have  only 
got  my  deserts  for  coming  here  to  look  after  an  inheri- 
tance, instead  of  painting  in  my  studio." 

"If  you  will  allow  me  to  offer  30U  a  piece  of  ad- 
vice," said  the  procureur  du  roi,  "  you  will  take  a  car- 
riage to-night,  which  the  postmaster  will  lend  you,  and 
return  to  Paris  by  the  diligence  from  Bourges." 

w  That  is  my  advice  also,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon, 
who  was  burning  with  a  desire  for  the  departure  of  his 
guests. 

"  M}T  most  earnest  wish  is  to  get  away  from  Issou- 
dun,  though  I  leave  my  only  friend  here,"  said  Agathe, 
kissing  Madame  Hochon's  hand.  u  When  shall  I  see 
3'ou  again  ?  " 

"Ah!  my  dear,  never  until  we  meet  above.  We 
have  suffered  enough  here  below,"  she  added  in  a  low 
voice,  "  for  God  to  take  pit}'  upon  us." 

Shortly  after,  while  Monsieur  Mouilleron  had  gone 
across  the  wa}'  to  talk  with  Max,  Gritte  greatly  aston- 
ished Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon,  Agathe,  Joseph, 
and  Adolphine  by  announcing  the  visit  of  Monsieur 
Ronget.  Jean-Jacques  came  to  bid  his  sister  good-b}-, 
and  to  offer  her  his  caleche  for  the  drive  to  Bourges. 

"Ah!  your  pictures  have  been  a  great  evil  to  us," 
said  Agathe. 

"  Keep  them,  my  sister,"  said  the  old  man,  who  did 
not  even  now  believe  in  their  value. 

18 


274  The  Two  Brothers. 

44  Neighbor,"  remarked  Monsieur  Hochon,  "  our  best 
friends,  our  surest  defenders,  are  our  own  relations ; 
above  all,  when  the}'  are  such  as  30111'  sister  Agathe, 
and  your  nephew  Joseph." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  old  Rouget  in  his  dull  way. 

M  We  ought  all  to  think  of  ending  our  days  in  a 
Christian  manner,"  said  Madame  Hochon. 

"Ah!  Jean-Jacques,"  said  Agathe,  ''.what  a  day 
this  has  been  !  " 

' '  Will  }'ou  accept  my  carriage  ?  "  asked  Rouget, 

"  No,  brother,"  answered  Madame  Bridau,  "  I  thank 
you,  and  wish  you  health  and  comfort." 

Rouget  let  his  sister  and  nephew  kiss  him,  and  then 
he  went  away  without  manifesting  any  feeling  himself. 
Baruch,  at  a  hint  from  his  grandfather,  had  been  to  see 
the  postmaster.  At  eleven  o'clock  that  night,  the  two 
Parisians,  ensconced  in  a  wicker  cabriolet  drawn  03-  one 
horse  and  ridden  b3T  a  postilion,  quitted  Issoudun.  Adol- 
phine  and  Madame  Hochon  parted  from  them  with  tears 
in  their  eyes  ;  the3'  alone  regretted  Joseph  and  Agathe. 

44  The3'  are  gone!"  said  Francois  Hochon,  going, 
with  the  Rabouilleuse,  into  Max's  bedroom. 

44  Well  done!  the  trick  succeeded,"  answered  Max, 
who  was  now  tired  and  feverish. 

4  4  But  what  did  you  say  to  old  Mouilleron  ?  "  asked 
Francois. 

44 1  told  him  that  I  had  given  my  assassin  some  cause 
to  wayla3T  me  ;  that  he  was  a  dangerous  man  and  likely, 
if  I  followed  up  the  affair,  to  kill  me  like  a  dog  before 
he  could  be  captured.  Consequently,  I  begged  Mouil- 
leron and  Praugin  to  make  the  most  active  search 
ostensibty,  but  really  to  let  the  assassin  go  in  peace, 
unless  the3'  wished  to  see  me  a  dead  man." 


The  Two  Brothers.  275 

"I  do  hope,  Max,"  said  Flore,  "that  you  will  be 
quiet  at  night  for  some  time  to  come." 

44  At  any  rate,  we  are  delivered  from  the  Parisians  !  " 
cried  Max.  "  The  fellow  who  stabbed  me  had  no  idea 
what  a  service  he  was  doing  us." 

The  next  da}',  the  departure  of  the  Parisians  was 
celebrated  as  a  victory  of  the  provinces  over  Paris  by 
every  one  in  Issoudun,  except  the  more  sober  and  staid 
inhabitants,  who  shared  the  opinions  of  Monsieur  and 
Madame  Hochon.  A  few  of  Max's  friends  spoke  very 
harshly  of  the  Bridaus. 

"  Do  those  Parisians  fancy  we  are  all  idiots,"  cried 
one,  "  and  think  they  have  only  got  to  hold  their  hats 
and  catch  legacies  ?  " 

44  They  came  to  fleece,  but  they  have  got  shorn  them- 
selves," said  another  ;  "  the  nephew  is  not  to  the  uncle's 
taste." 

"  And,  if  3'ou  please,  they  actually  consulted  a  law}Ter 
in  Paris  —  " 

44  Ah  !  had  they  really  a  plan?  " 

44  Why,  of  course,  — a  plan  to  get  possession  of  old 
Rouget.  But  the  Parisians  were  not  clever  enough ; 
that  law}'er  can't  crow  over  us  Berrichons !  " 

44  How  abominable  !  " 

44  That's  Paris  for  you  !  " 

44  The  Rabouilleuse  knew  they  came  to  attack  her, 
and  she  defended  herself." 

44  She  did  gloriously  right !  " 

To  the  townspeople  at  large  the  Bridaus  were  Paris- 
ians and  foreigners  ;  the}*  preferred  Max  and  Flore. 

We  can  imagine  the  satisfaction  with  which,  after 
this  campaign,  Joseph  and  Agathe  re-entered  their  little 


276  The  Two  Brothers. 

lodging  in  the  rue  Mazarin.  On  the  journey,  the  artist 
recovered  his  spirits,  which  had,  not  unnaturally,  been 
put  to  flight  by  his  arrest  and  twenty-four  hours'  confine- 
ment ;  but  he  could  not  cheer  up  his  mother.  The  Court 
of  Peers  was  about  to  begin  the  trial  of  the  militaiy  con- 
spirators, and  that  was  sufficient  to  keep  Agathe  from 
recovering  her  peace  of  mind.  Philippe's  conduct,  in 
spite  of  the  clever  defender  whom  Desroches  recom- 
mended to  him,  roused  suspicions  that  were  unfavorable 
to  his  character.  In  view  of  this,  Joseph,  as  soon  as  he 
had  put  Desroches  in  possession  of  all  that  was  going 
on  at  Issoudun,  started  with  Mistigris  for  the  chateau  of 
the  Comte  de  Serizy,  to  escape  hearing  about  the  trial 
of  the  conspirators,  which  lasted  for  twenty  days. 

It  is  useless  to  record  facts  that  may  be  found  in  con- 
temporaneous histories.  Whether  it  were  that  he  played 
a  part  previously  agreed  upon,  or  that  he  was  reall}'  an 
informer,  Philippe  was  condemned  to  five  3-ears'  surveil- 
lance by  the  police  department,  and  ordered  to  leave 
Paris  the  same  day  for  Autun,  the  town  which  the  direc- 
tor-general of  police  selected  as  the  place  of  his  exile 
for  five  years.  This  punishment  resembled  the  deten- 
tion of  prisoners  on  parole  who  have  a  town  for  a 
prison.  Learning  that  the  Comte  de  Seriz}-,  one  of 
the  peers  appointed  by  the  Chamber  on  the  court- 
martial,  was  employing  Joseph  to  decorate  his  chateau 
at  Presles,  Desroches  begged  the  minister  to  grant 
him  an  audience,  and  found  Monsieur  de  Serizy  most 
amiably  disposed  toward  Joseph,  with  whom  he  had 
happened  to  make  personal  acquaintance.  Desroches 
explained  the  financial  condition  of  the  two  brothers, 
recalling  the  services  of  the  father,  and  the  neglect 
shown  to  them  under  the  Restoration. 


The  Two  Brothers.  277 

'*  Such  injustice,  monseigneur,"  said  the  law}^er,  "  is 
a  lasting  cause  of  irritation  and  discontent.  You  knew 
the  father ;  give  the  sons  a  chance,  at  least,  of  making 
a  fortune  —  " 

And  he  drew  a  succinct  picture  of  the  situation  of 
the  family  affairs  at  Issoudun,  begging  the  all-powerful 
vice-president  of  the  Council  of  State  to  take  steps  to 
induce  the  director-general  of  police  to  change  Philippe's 
place  of  residence  from  Autun  to  Issoudun.  He  also 
spoke  of  Philippe's  extreme  poverty,  and  asked  a  dole 
of  sixty  francs  a  month,  which  the  minister  of  war 
ought,  he  said,  for  mere  shame's  sake,  to  grant  to  a 
former  lieutenant-colonel. 

"  I  will  obtain  all  you  ask  of  me,  for  I  think  it  just," 
replied  the  count. 

Three  days  later,  Desroches,  furnished  with  the  neces- 
sary authority,  fetched  Philippe  from  the  prison  of  the 
Court  of  Peers,  and  took  him  to  his  own  house,  rue  de 
Bethiz}\  Once  there,  the  3'oung  barrister  read  the 
miserable  vagabond  one  of  those  unanswerable  lectures 
in  which  lawyers  rate  things  at  their  actual  value  ;  using 
plain  terms  to  qualify  the  conduct,  and  to  analyze  and 
reduce  to  their  simplest  meaning  the  sentiments  and 
ideas  of  clients  toward  whom  they  feel  enough  interest 
to  speak  plainl\\  After  humbling  the  Emperor's  staff- 
officer  03-  reproaching  him  with  his  reckless  dissipations, 
his  mother's  misfortunes,  and  the  death  of  Madame  Des- 
coings,  he  went  on  to  tell  him  the  state  of  things  at 
Issoudun,  explaining  it  according  to  his  lights,  and 
probing  both  the  scheme  and  the  character  of  Maxence 
Gilet  and  the  Rabouilleuse  to  their  depths.  Philippe, 
who  was  gifted  with  a  keen  comprehension  in  such 
directions,  listened   with  much    more   interest   to   this 


278  The  Two  Brothers. 

part  of  Desroches's  lecture  than  to  what  had  gone 
before. 

"  Under  these  circumstances,"  continued  the  lawyer, 
"  you  can  repair  the  injury  you  have  done  to  your  esti- 
mable family,  —  so  far  at  least  as  it  is  reparable  ;  for  30U 
cannot  restore  life  to  the  poor  mother  you  have  all  but 
killed.     But  \-ou  alone  can — " 

44  What  can  I  do?"  asked  Philippe. 

"  I  have  obtained  a  change  of  residence  for  3  ou  from 
Autun  to  Issoudun.  —  " 

Philippe's  sunken  face,  which  had  grown  almost  sin- 
ister in  expression  and  was  furrowed  with  sufferings 
and  privation,  instantly  lighted  up  with  a  Hash  of  ]o\. 

44  And,  as  I  was  sajing,  you  alone  can  recover  the 
inheritance  of  old  Rouget's  property;  half  of  which  may 
03-  this  time  be  in  the  jaws  of  the  wolf  named  Gilet," 
replied  Desroches.  ' '  You  now  know  all  the  particulars, 
and  it  is  for  30U  to  act  accordingly.  I  suggest  no  plan  ; 
I  have  no  ideas  at  all  as  to  that ;  besides,  everything 
will  depend  on  local  circumstances.  You  have  to  deal 
with  a  strong  force ;  that  fellow  is  very  astute.  The 
way  he  attempted  to  get  back  the  pictures  your  uncle 
had  given  to  Joseph,  the  audacit}'  with  which  he  laid  a 
crime  on  your  poor  brother's  shoulders,  all  go  to  prove 
that  the  adversary  is  capable  of  everything.  Therefore, 
be  prudent ;  and  try  to  behave  property  from  policy,  if 
you  can't  do  so  out  of  decenc}\  Without  telling  Joseph, 
whose  artist's  pride  would  be  up  in  arms,  I  have  sent 
the  pictures  to  Monsieur  Hochon,  telling  him  to  give 
them  up  to  no  one  but  30U.  Ify  the  way,  Maxence 
Gilet  is  a  brave  man." 

"  So  much  the  better,"  said  Philippe  ;  44 1  count  on  his 
courage  for  success ;  a  coward  would  leave  Issoudun." 


The  Two  Brothers.  279 

"  Well,  —  think  of  3*0111*  mother  who  has  been  so  de- 
voted to  30U,  and  of  your  brother,  whom  you  made  your 
milch  cow." 

"  Ah  !  did  he  tell  you  that  nonsense  ?  "  cried  Philippe. 

"Am  I  not  the  friend  of  the  family,  and  don't  I 
know  much  more  about  you  than  they  do?"  asked 
Desroches. 

"  What  do  you  know?"  said  Philippe. 

"  That  3-011  betrayed  your  comrades." 

"  I !  "  exclaimed  Philippe.  "  I !  a  staff-officer  of  the 
Emperor  !  Absurd  !  Why,  we  fooled  the  Chamber  of 
Peers,  the  lawyers,  the  government,  and  the  whole  of 
the  damned  concern.  The  king's  people  were  com- 
pletely hood- winked." 

"That's  all  very  well,  if  it  was  so,"  answered  the 
law3'er.  "  But,  don't  you  see,  the  Bourbons  can't  be 
overthrown ;  all  Europe  is  backing  them ;  and  you 
ought  to  try  and  make  your  peace  with  the  war  depart- 
ment, —  you  could  do  that  readily  enough  if  you  were 
rich.  To  get  rich,  you  and  your  brother,  you  must 
lay  hold  of  your  uncle.  If  you  will  take  the  trouble 
to  manage  an  affair  which  needs  great  cleverness, 
patience,  and  caution,  you  have  enough  work  before 
you  to  occupy  your  five  years.  " 

"No,  no,"  cried  Philippe,  "I  must  take  the  bull  by 
the  horns  at  once.  This  Maxence  maj-  alter  the  in- 
vestment of  the  property  and  put  it  in  that  woman's 
name  ;  and  then  all  would  be  lost." 

"  Monsieur  Hochon  is  a  good  adviser,  and  sees  clearly  ; 
consult  him.  You  have  your  orders  from  the  police ; 
I  have  taken  your  place  in  the  Orleans  diligence  for 
half-past  seven  o'clock  this  evening.  I  suppose  your 
trunk  is  ready ;  so,  now  come  and  dine. " 


280  The  Two  Brothers. 

44 1  own  nothing  but  what  I  have  got  on  my  back," 
said  Philippe,  opening  his  horrible  blue  overcoat ;  "  but 
I  only  need  three  things,  which  30U  must  tell  Girou- 
deau,  the  uncle  of  Finot,  to  send  me,  —  my  sabre,  nry 
sword,  and  my  pistols.  " 

44  You  need  more  than  that,"  said  the  lawyer,  shud- 
dering as  he  looked  at  his  client.  "  You  will  receive  a 
quarterly  stipend  which  will  clothe  you  decently.  " 

u  Bless  me !  are  you  here,  Godeschal?"  cried  Phil- 
ippe, recognizing  in  Desroches' s  head-clerk,  as  the}' 
passed  out,  the  brother  of  Mariette. 

44  Yes,  I  have  been  with  Monsieur  Desroches  for 
the  last  two  months. " 

44  And  he  will  sta}T  with  me,  I  hope,  till  he  gets  a 
business  of  his  own,"  said  Desroches. 

44  How  is  Mariette?"  asked  Philippe,  moved  at  his 
recollections. 

44  She  is  getting  ready  for  the  opening  of  the  new 
theatre.  " 

44  It  would  cost  her  little  trouble  to  get  my  sentence 
remitted,  "  said  Philippe.  44  However,  as  she  chooses  ! " 

After  a  meagre  dinner,  given  by  Desroches  who 
boarded  his  head-clerk,  the  two  lawyers  put  the  polit- 
ical convict  in  the  diligence,  and  wished  him  good  luck. 


The  Two  Brothers.  281 


XIV. 

On  the  second  of  December,  All-Souls'  day,  Philippe 
Briclau  appeared  before  the  commissary  of  police  at 
Issoudun,  to  have  the  date  of  his  arrival  recorded  on 
his  papers ;  and  by  that  functionary's  advice  he  went 
to  lodge  in  the  rue  l'Avenier.  The  news  of  the  arrival 
of  an  officer,  banished  on  account  of  the  late  military 
conspiracy,  spread  rapidly  through  the  town,  and 
caused  all  the  more  excitement  when  it  was  known  that 
this  officer  was  a  brother  of  the  painter  who  had  been 
falsely  accused.  Maxence  Gilet,  by  that  time  entirely 
recovered  from  his  wound,  had  completed  the  difficult 
operation  of  turning  all  Pere  Rouget' s  mortgages  into 
money,  and  putting  the  proceeds  in  one  sum,  on  the 
grand-livre.  The  loan  of  one  hundred  and  fortv  thou- 
sand francs  obtained  by  the  old  man  on  his  landed 
property  had  caused  a  great  sensation,  —  for  everything 
is  known  in  the  provinces.  Monsieur  Hochon,  in  the 
Bridau  interest,  was  much  put  about  b}'  this  disaster, 
and  questioned  old  Monsieur  Heron,  the  notary  at 
Bourges,  as  to  the  object  of  it. 

"  The  heirs  of  old  Rouget,  if  old  Rouget  changes  his 
mind,  ought  to  make  me  a  votive  offering,"  cried  Mon- 
sieur Heron.  w  If  it  had  not  been  for  me,  the  old  fel- 
low would  have  allowed  the  fifty  thousand  francs'  income 
to  stand  in  the  name  of  Maxence  Gilet.  I  told  Made- 
moiselle Brazier  that  she  ought  to  look  to  the  will  only, 
and  not  run  the  risk  of  a  suit  for  spoliation,  seeing 


282  The  Two  Brothers. 

what  numerous  proofs  these  transfers  in  ever}'  direction 
would  give  against  them.  To  gain  time,  I  advised 
Maxence  and  his  mistress  to  keep  quiet,  and  let  this 
sudden  change  in  the  usual  business  habits  of  the  old 
man  be  forgotten." 

"Protect  the  Bridaus,  for  the}'  have  nothing,"  said 
Monsieur  Hochon,  who  in  addition  to  all  other  reasons, 
could  not  forgive  Gilet  the  terrors  he  had  endured  when 
fearing  the  pillage  of  his  house. 

Maxence  Gilet  and  Flore  Brazier,  now  secure  against 
all  attack,  were  very  merry  over  the  arrival  of  another 
of  old  Rouge t's  nephews.  They  knew  they  were  able, 
at  the  first  signal  of  danger,  to  make  the  old  man  sign 
a  power  of  attorney  under  which  the  money  in  the 
Funds  could  be  transferred  either  to  Max  or  Flore. 
]f  the  will  leaving  Flore  the  principal,  should  be  re- 
voked, an  income  of  fifty  thousand  francs  was  a  very 
tolerable  crumb  of  comfort,  —  more  particularly  after 
squeezing  from  the  real  estate  that  mortgage  of  a  hun- 
dred and  forty  thousand. 

The  day  after  his  arrival,  Philippe  called  upon  his 
uncle  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  anxious  to  pre- 
sent himself  in  his  dilapidated  clothing.  When  the 
convalescent  of  the  Hopital  du  Midi,  the  prisoner  of  the 
Luxembourg,  entered  the  room,  Flore  Brazier  felt  a 
shiver  pass  over  her  at  the  repulsive  sight.  Gilet  him- 
self was  conscious  of  that  peculiar  disturbance  both  of 
mind  and  bod}',  by  which  Nature  sometimes  warns  us 
of  a  latent  enmity,  or  a  coming  danger.  If  there  was 
something  indescribably  sinister  in  Philippe's  counte- 
nance, due  to  his  recent  misfortunes,  the  effect  was 
heightened  by  his  clothes.  His  forlorn  blue  great-coat 
was  buttoned  in  military  fashion  to  the  throat,  for  pain- 


The  Two  Brothers.  283 

ful  reasons  ;  and  yet  it  showed  much  that  it  pretended 
to  conceal.     The  bottom  edges  of  the  trousers,  ragged 
like  those  of  an  almshouse  beggar,  were  the  sign  of  ab- 
ject povert}'.     The  boots  left  wet  splashes  on  the  floor, 
as  the  mud  oozed  from  fissures  in  the  soles.     The  gray 
hat,  which  the  colonel  held  in  his  hand,  was  horribly 
greasy  round  the  rim.     The  malacca  cane,  from  which 
the  polish  had  long  disappeared,  must  have  stood  in  all 
the  corners  of  all  the  cafes  in  Paris,  and  poked  its  worn- 
out  end  into  man}"  a  corruption.     Above  the  velvet  col- 
lar, rubbed  and  worn  till  the  frame  showed  through  it, 
rose  a  head  like  that  which  Frederick  Lemaitre  makes 
up  for  the  last  act  in  "The  Life  of  a  Gambler,"  — 
where  the  exhaustion  of  a  man  still  in  the  prime  of  life 
is  betrayed  by  the  metallic,  brass}'  skin,  discolored  as 
if  with  verdigris.     Such  tints  are  seen  on  the  faces  of 
debauched  gamblers  who  spend  their  nights  in   play : 
the  e}es  are  sunken  in  a  dusky  circle,  the  lids  are  red- 
dened rather  than  red,  the  brow  is  menacing  from  the 
wreck  and  ruin  it  reveals.      Philippe's  cheeks,  which 
were  sunken  and  wrinkled,  showed  signs  of  the  illness 
from  which  he  had  scarcety  recovered.     His  head  was 
bald,  except  for  a  fringe  of  hair  at  the  back   which 
ended  at  the  ears.     The  pure  blue  of  his  brilliant  eyes 
had  acquired  the  cold  tones  of  polished  steel. 

"Good-morning,  uncle,"  he  said,  in  a  hoarse  voice. 
"I  am  3-our  nephew,  Philippe  Bridau,  —  a  specimen  of 
how  the  Bourbons  treat  a  lieutenant-colonel,  an  old 
soldier  of  the  old  arm}*,  one  who  carried  the  Emperor's 
orders  at  the  battle  of  Montereau.  If  my  coat  were  to 
open,  I  should  be  put  to  shame  in  presence  of  Made- 
moiselle. Well,  it  is  the  rule  of  the  game  !  We  hoped 
to  begin  it  again  ;  we  tried  it,  and  we  have  failed  !     I 


284  The  Two  Brothers. 

am  to  reside  in  3-our  city  by  order -of  the  police,  with 
a  full  pa}'  of  sixty  francs  a  month.  So  the  inhabitants 
need  n't  fear  that  I  shall  raise  the  price  of  provisions ! 
I  see  3*011  are  in  good  and  lovely  company." 

44  Ah  !  you  are  nry  nephew,"  said  Jean- Jacques. 

"Invite  monsieur  le  colonel  to  breakfast  with  us," 
said  Flore. 

44  No,  I  thank  }*ou,  madame,"  answered  Philippe, 
44 1  have  breakfasted.  Besides,  I  would  cut  off  my 
hand  sooner  than  ask  a  bit  of  bread  or  a  farthing  from 
nry  uncle,  after  the  treatment  my  mother  and  brother 
received  in  this  town.  It  did  not  seem  proper,  how- 
ever, that  I  should  settle  here,  in  Issoudun,  without 
paying  my  respects  to  him  from  time  to  time.  You  can 
do  what  you  like,"  he  added,  offering  the  old  man  his 
hand,  into  which  Rouget  put  his  own,  which  Philippe 
shook,  —  44  whatever  you  like.  I  shall  have  nothing  to 
say  against  it;  provided  the  honor  of  the  Bridaus  is 
untouched." 

Gilet  could  look  at  the  lieutenant-colonel  as  much  as 
he  pleased,  for  Philippe  pointedly  avoided  casting  his 
e}-es  in  his  direction.  Max,  though  the  blood  boiled  in 
his  veins,  was  too  well  aware  of  the  importance  of  be- 
having with  political  prudence  —  which  occasionally 
resembles  cowardice  —  to  take  fire  like  a  young  man; 
he  remained,  therefore,  perfectly  calm  and  cold. 

44  It  wouldn't  be  right,  monsieur,"  said  Flore,  44to 
live  on  sixty  francs  a  month  under  the  nose  of  an  uncle 
who  has  forty  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  who  has  al- 
ready behaved  so  kindly  to  Captain  Gilet,  his  natural 
relation,  here  present —  " 

4 'Yes,  Philippe,"  cried  the  old  man,  "you  must  see 
that !  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  285 

On  Flore's  presentation,  Philippe  made  a  half-timid 
bow  to  Max. 

"  Uncle,  I  have  some  pictures  to  return  to  you  ;  they 
are  now  at  Monsieur  Hochon's.  Will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  come  over  some  day  and  identify  them." 

Saying  these  last  words  in  a  curt  tone,  lieutenant- 
colonel  Philippe  Bridau  departed.  The  tone  of  his  visit 
made,  if  possible,  a  deeper  impression  on  Flore's  mind, 
and  also  on  that  of  Max,  than  the  shock  the}'  had  felt 
at  the  first  sight  of  that  horrible  campaigner.  As  soon 
as  Philippe  had  slammed  the  door,  with  the  violence  of 
a  disinherited  heir,  Max  and  Flore  hid  behind  the  win- 
dow-curtains to  watch  him  as  he  crossed  the  road,  to 
the  Hochons'. 

"  What  a  vagabond  !  "  exclaimed  Flore,  questioning 
Max  with  a  glance  of  her  eye. 

"  Yes  ;  unfortunately  there  were  men  like  him  in  the 
armies  of  the  Emperor ;  I  sent  seven  to  the  shades  at 
Cabrera,"  answered  Gilet. 

"  I  do  hope,  Max,  that  you  won't  pick  a  quarrel  with 
that  fellow,"  said  Mademoiselle  Brazier. 

"  He  smelt  so  of  tobacco,"  complained  the  old  man. 

"  He  was  smelling  after  your  money-bags,"  said  Flore, 
in  a  peremptory  tone.  "My  advice  is  that  you  don't 
let  him  into  the  house  again." 

"I'd  prefer  not  to,"  replied  Rouget. 

"Monsieur,"  said  Gritte,  entering  the  room  where 
the  Hochon  family  were  all  assembled  after  breakfast, 
"  here  is  the  Monsieur  Bridau  3*011  were  talking  about." 

Philippe  made  his  entrance  politeh',  in  the  midst  of 
a  dead  silence  caused  by  general  curiosity.  Madame 
Hochon  shuddered  from  head  to  foot  as  she  beheld  the 
author  of  all  Agathe's  woes  and  the  murderer  of  good 


286  The  Two  Brothers. 

old  Madame  Descoings.  Adolphine  also  felt  a  shock 
of  fear.  Baruch  and  Francois  looked  at  each  other  in 
surprise.  Old  Hochon  kept  his  self-possession,  and 
offered  a  seat  to  the  son  of  Madame  Bridau. 

"I  have  come,  monsieur,"  said  Philippe,  "to  intro- 
duce myself  to  3011 ;  I  am  forced  to  consider  how  I  can 
manage  to  live  here,  for  five  years,  on  sixty  francs  a 
month." 

u  It  can  be  done,"  said  the  octogenarian. 

Philippe  talked  about  things  in  general,  with  per- 
fect proprietj'.  He  mentioned  the  journalist  Lousteau, 
nephew  of  the  old  lady,  as  a  rara  avis,  and  won  her 
good  graces  from  the  moment  she  heard  him  say  that 
the  name  of  Lousteau  would  become  celebrated.  He 
did  not  hesitate  to  admit  his  faults  of  conduct.  To  a 
friendly  admonition  which  Madame  Hochon  addressed 
to  him  in  a  low  voice,  he  replied  that  he  had  reflected 
deeply  while  in  prison,  and  could  promise  that  in  future 
he  would  live  another  life. 

On  a  hint  from  Philippe,  Monsieur  Hochon  went  out 
with  him  when  he  took  his  leave.  When  the  miser  and 
the  soldier  reached  the  boulevard  Baron,  a  place  where 
no  one  could  overhear  them,  the  colonel  turned  to  the 
old  man,  — 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  "  if  }'OU  will  be  guided  by  me, 
we  will  never  speak  together  of  matters  and  things,  or 
people  either,  unless  we  are  walking  in  the  open  country, 
or  in  places  where  we  cannot  be  overheard.  Maitre 
Desroches  has  fully  explained  to  me  the  influence  of  the 
gossip  of  a  little  town.  Therefore  I  don't  wish  you 
be  suspected  of  advising  me ;  though  Desroches  hi 
told  me  to  ask  for  your  advice,  and  I  beg  30U  not  to  bt 
I'har}'  of  giving  it.     We  have  a  powerful  enemj*  in  0111 


The  Two  Brothers.  287 

front,  and  it  won't  do  to  neglect  any  precaution  which 
may  help  to  defeat  him.  In  the  first  place,  therefore, 
excuse  me  if  I  do  not  call  upon  3-011  again.  A  little 
coldness  between  us  will  clear  3*011  of  all  suspicion  of 
influencing  1113-  conduct.  When  I  want  to  consult  you, 
I  will  pass  along  the  square  at  half-past  nine,  just  as 
you  are  coming  out  after  breakfast.  If  you  see  me 
cany  m3T  cane  on  my  shoulder,  that  will  mean  that  we 
must  meet  —  accidentally  —  in  some  open  space  which 
3'ou  will  point  out  to  me." 

■■'  I  see  3-011  are  a  prudent  man,  bent  on  success,"  said 
old  Hochon. 

"I  shall  succeed,  monsieur.  First  of  all,  give  me 
the  names  of  the  officers  of  the  old  army  now  living  in 
Issoudun,  who  have  not  taken  sides  with  Maxence 
Gilet ;  I  wish  to  make  their  acquaintance." 

"Well,  there's  a  captain  of  the  artillery  of  the 
Guard,  Monsieur  Mignonnet,  a  man  about  forty  years 
of  age,  who  was  brought  up  at  the  Ecole  Polyteehnique, 
and  lives  in  a  quiet  wa3\  He  is  a  veiy  honorable  man, 
and  openly  disapproves  of  Max,  whose  conduct  he 
considers  unworthy  of  a  true  soldier." 

"  Good  !  "  remarked  the  lieutenant-colonel. 

"There  are  not  many  soldiers  here  of  that  stripe," 
resumed  Monsieur  Hochon  ;  "  the  011I3-  other  that  I 
know  is  an  old  cavalry  captain." 

"  That  is  m3*  arm,"  said  Philippe.  "  Was  he  in  the 
Guard?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Monsieur  Hochon.  "  Carpentier  was, 
in  1810,  sergeant-major  in  the  dragoons ;  then  he  rose 
to  be  sub-lieutenant  in  the  line,  and  subseqnenthr  cap- 
tain of  cavalry.*' 

"  Giroudeau  may  know  him,"  thought  Philippe. 


288  The  Two  Brother*. 

"This  Monsieur  Carpentier  took  the  place  in  the 
may-or's  office  which  Gilet  threw  up ;  he  is  a  friend  of 
Monsieur  Mignonnet." 

"  How  can  I  earn  my  living  here?" 

"The}-  are  going,  I  think,  to  establish  a  mutual  in- 
surance agency  in  Issoudun,  for  the  department  of  the 
Cher ;  you  might  get  a  place  in  it ;  but  the  pay  won't 
be  more  than  fifty-  francs  a  month  at  the  outside." 

M  That  will  be  enough." 

At  the  end  of  a  week  Philippe  had  a  new  suit  of 
clothes,  —  coat,  waistcoat,  and  trousers,  —  of  good  blue 
Elbeuf  cloth,  bought  on  credit,  to  be  paid  for  at  so 
much  a  month ;  also  new  boots,  buckskin  gloves,  and  a 
hat.  Giroudeau  sent  him  some  linen,  with  his  weapons 
and  a  letter  for  Carpentier,  who  had  formerly  served 
under  Giroudeau.  The  letter  secured  him  Carpcntier's 
good-will,  and  the  latter  presented  him  to  his  friend 
Mignonnet  as  a  man  of  great  merit  and  the  highest 
character.  Philippe  won  the  admiration  of  these  worthy 
officers  by  confiding  to  them  a  few  facts  about  the  late 
conspiracy7,  which  was,  as  everybody-  knows,  the  last 
attempt  of  the  old  army  against  the  Bourbons ;  for  t\w 
affair  of  the  sergeants  at  La  Rochelle  belongs  to  another 
order  of  ideas. 

Warned  by  the  fate  of  the  conspiracy  of  the  19th  of 
Angust,  1820,  and  of  those  of  Berton  and  Caron,  the 
soldiers  of  the  old  army  resigned  themselves,  after  their 
failure  in  1822,  to  wait  events.  This  last  conspiracy, 
which  grew  out  of  that  of  the  19th  of  August,  was  really  a 
continuation  of  the  latter,  carried  on  by  a  better  element. 
Like  its  predecessor,  it  was  absolutely  unknown  to  the 
royal  government.  Betrayed  once  more,  the  conspira- 
tors had  the  wit  to  reduce  their  vast  enterprise  to  the 


The  Two  Brothers.  289 

pun}'  proportions  of  a  barrack  plot.  This  conspiracy, 
in  which  several  regiments  of  cavaliy,  infantry,  and 
artiller}'  were  concerned,  had  its  centre  in  the  north  of 
France.  The  strong  places  along  the  frontier  were  to 
be  captured  at  a  blow.  If  success  had  followed,  the 
treaties  of  1815  would  have  been  broken  by  a  federa- 
tion with  Belgium,  which,  by  a  military  compact  made 
among  the  soldiers,  was  to  withdraw  from  the  Holy 
Alliance.  Two  thrones  would  have  been  plunged  in 
a  moment  into  the  vortex  of  this  sudden  cyclone.  In- 
stead of  this  formidable  scheme  —  concerted  b}T  strong 
minds  and  supported  by  personages  of  high  rank  — 
being  carried  out,  one  small  part  of  it,  and  that  only, 
was  discovered  and  brought  before  the  Court  of  Peers. 
Philippe  Bridau  consented  to  screen  the  leaders,  who 
retired  the  moment  the  plot  was  discovered  (either  by 
treachery  or  accident),  and  from  their  seats  in  both 
Chambers  lent  their  co-operation  to  the  inquiry  only 
to  work  for  the  ultimate  success  of  their  purpose  at  the 
heart  of  the  government. 

To  recount  this  scheme,  which,  since  1830,  the  Liber- 
als have  openly  confessed  in  all  its  ramifications,  would 
trench  upon  the  domain  of  history  and  involve  too  long 
a  digression.  This  glimpse  of  it  is  enough  to  show  the 
double  part  which  Philippe  Bridau  undertook  to  play. 
The  former  staff-officer  of  the  Emperor  was  to  lead  a 
movement  in  Paris  solelj-  for  the  purpose  of  masking 
the  real  conspiracy  and  occupying  the  mind  of  the  gov- 
ernment at  its  centre,  while  the  great  struggle  should 
burst  forth  at  the  north.  When  the  latter  miscarried 
before  discovery,  Philippe  was  ordered  to  break  all 
links  connecting  the  two  plots,  and  to  allow  the  secrets 
of  the  secondary  plot  only  to  become  known.     For  this 

19 


290  The  Two  Brothers. 

purpose,  his  abject  misery,  to  which  his  state  of  health 
and  his  clothing  bore  witness,  was  amply  sufficient  to 
undervalue  the  character  of  the  conspiracy  and  reduce 
its  proportions  in  the  eyes  of  the  authorities.  The  role 
was  well  suited  to  the  precarious  position  of  the  un- 
principled gambler.  Feeling  himself  astride  of  both 
parties,  the  crafty  Philippe  played  the  saint  to  the 
royal  government,  all  the  while  retaining  the  good 
opinion  of  the  men  in  high  places  who  were  of  the 
other  part}*,  —  determined  to  cast  in  his  lot  at  a  later 
day  with  whichever  side  he  might  then  find  most  to  his 
advantage. 

These  revelations  as  to  the  vast  bearings  of  the  real 
conspiracy  made  Philippe  a  man  of  great  distinction 
in  the  eyes  of  Carpentier  and  Mignonnet,  to  whom  his 
self-devotion  seemed  a  state-craft  worth}'  of  the  palmy 
days  of  the  Convention.  In  a  short  time  the  tricky 
Bonapartist  was  seen  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  the 
two  officers,  and  the  consideration  the}'  enjoyed  in  the 
town  was,  of  course,  shared  by  him.  He  soon  ob- 
tained, through  their  recommendation,  the  situation  in 
the  insurance  office  that  old  Hochon  had  suggested, 
which  required  only  three  hours  of  his  day.  Mignonnet 
and  Carpentier  put  him  up  at  their  club,  where  his  good 
manners  and  bearing,  in  keeping  with  the  high  opinion 
which  the  two  officers  expressed  about  him,  won  him  a 
respect  often  given  to  external  appearances  that  are 
only  deceitful. 

Philippe,  whose  conduct  was  carefully  considered 
and  planned,  had  indeed  made  many  reflections  while 
in  prison  as  to  the  inconveniences  of  leading  a  de- 
bauched life.  He  did  not  need  Desroches's  lecture 
to  understand  the  necessity  of  conciliating  the  peop 


" 


The  Two  Brothers.  291 

at  Tssoudun  by  decent,  sober,  and  respectable  conduct. 
Delighted  to  attract  Max's  ridicule  Iry  behaving  with 
the  propriety  of  a  Mignonnet,  he  went  further,  and 
endeavored  to  lull  Gilet's  suspicions  by  deceiving  him 
as  to  his  real  character.  He  was  bent  on  being  taken 
for  a  fool  by  appearing  generous  and  disinterested  ; 
all  the  while  drawing  a  net  around  his  adversary,  and 
keeping  his  eye  on  his  uncle's  property.  His  mother 
and  brother,  on  the  contrary,  who  were  really  dis- 
interested, generous  and  lofty,  had  been  accused  of 
greed  because  the}'  had  acted  with  straightforward 
simplicity.  Philippe's  covetousness  was  fully  roused 
b}T  Monsieur  Hochon,  who  gave  him  all  the  details 
of  his  uncle's  property.  In  the  first  secret  conversa- 
tion which  he  held  with  the  octogenarian,  they  agreed 
that  Philippe  must  not  awaken  Max's  suspicions ;  for 
the  game  would  be  lost  if  Flore  and  Max  were  to  carry 
off  their  victim,  though  no  farther  than  Bourges. 

Once  a  week  the  colonel  dined  with  Mignonnet ; 
another  day  with  Carpentier  ;  and  every  Thursday  with 
Monsieur  Hochon.  At  the  end  of  three  weeks  he 
received  other  invitations  for  the  remaining  days,  so 
that  he  had  little  more  than  his  breakfast  to  provide. 
He  never  spoke  of  his  uncle,  nor  of  the  Iiabouilleuse, 
nor  of  Gilet,  unless  it  were  in  connection  with  his 
mother  and  his  brother's  stay  in  Issoudun.  The  three 
officers  —  the  only  soldiers  in  the  town  who  were  dec- 
orated, and  among  whom  Philippe  had  the  advantage 
of  the  rosette,  which  in  the  e3*es  of  all  provincials  gave 
him  a  marked  superiority  —  took  a  habit  of  walking 
together  every  day  before  dinner,  keeping,  as  the  say- 
ing is,  to  themselves.  This  reserve  and  tranquillity  of 
demeanor  had   an   excellent   effect   in   Issoudun.     All 


292  The  Two  Brothers. 

Max's  adherents  thought  Philippe  a  sabre ur,  —  an  ex- 
pression applied  by  soldiers  to  the  commonest  sort  of 
courage  in  their  superior  officers,  while  den}ing  that 
the}T  possess  the  requisite  qualities  of  a  commander. 

44  He  is  a  very  honorable  man,"  said  Goddet  the 
surgeon,  to  Max. 

44  Bah!"  replied  Gilet,  "his  behavior  before  the 
Court  of  Peers  proves  him  to  have  been  either  a 
dupe  or  a  sp}T ;  he  is,  as  you  say,  ninn}-  enough  to 
have  been  duped  by  the  great  plaj-ers." 

After  obtaining  his  situation,  Philippe,  who  was  well 
informed  as  to  the  gossip  of  the  town,  wished  to  con- 
ceal certain  circumstances  of  his  present  life  as  much 
as  possible  from  the  knowledge  of  the  inhabitants  ;  he 
therefore  went  to  live  in  a  house  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  faubourg  Saint-Paterne,  to  which  was  attached  a 
large  garden.  Here  he  was  able  in  the  utmost  secrecy 
to  fence  with  Carpentier,  who  had  been  a  fencing- 
master  in  the  infantr\T  before  entering  the  cavalry. 
Philippe  soon  recovered  his  earl}'  dexterity,  and  learned 
other  and  new  secrets  from  Carpentier,  which  con- 
vinced him  that  he  need  not  fear  the  prowess  of  any 
adversar}-.  This  done,  he  began  openly  to  practise 
with  pistols,  with  Mignonnet  and  Carpentier,  declaring 
it  was  for  amusement,  but  really  intending  to  make 
Max  believe  that,  in  case  of  a  duel,  he  should  rely  upon 
that  weapon.  Whenever  Philippe  met  Gilet  he  waited 
for  him  to  bow  first,  and  answered  the  salutation  by 
touching  the  brim  of  his  hat  cavalierly,  as  an  officer 
acknowledges  the  salute  of  a  private.  Maxence  Gilet 
gave  no  sign  of  impatience  or  displeasure ;  he  never 
uttered  a  single  word  about  Bridau  at  the  Cognettes' 
where  he  still  gave  suppers ;    although,  since   Fario's 


The  Two  Brothers.  293 

attack,  the  pranks  of  the  Order  of  Idleness  were  tem- 
porarily suspended. 

After  a  while,  however,  the  contempt  shown  b}-  Lieu- 
tenant-colonel Bridau  for  the  former  cavalry  captain, 
Gilet,  was  a  settled  fact,  which  certain  Knights  of  Idle- 
ness, who  were  less  bound  to  Max  than  Francois,  Baruch, 
and  three  or  four  others,  discussed  among  themselves. 
They  were  much  surprised  to  see  the  violent  and  fiery 
Max  behave  with  such  discretion.  No  one  in  Issondun, 
not  even  Potel  or  Renard,  dared  broach  so  delicate  a 
subject  with  him.  Potel,  somewhat  disturbed  by  this 
open  misunderstanding  between  two  heroes  of  the  Im- 
perial Guard,  suggested  that  Max  might  be  laying  a  net 
for  the  colonel ;  he  asserted  that  some  new  scheme 
might  be  looked  for  from  a  man  who  had  got  rid  of  the 
mother  and  one  brother  by  making  use  of  Fario's  attack 
upon  him,  the  particulars  of  which  were  now  no  longer 
a  nryster}*.  Monsieur  Hochon  had  taken  care  to  reveal 
the  truth  of  Max's  atrocious  accusation  to  the  best  peo- 
ple of  the  town.  Thus  it  happened  that  in  talking  over 
the  situation  of  the  lieutenant-colonel  in  relation  to 
Max,  and  in  trying  to  guess  what  might  spring  from 
their  antagonism,  the  whole  town  regarded  the  two 
men,  from  the  start,  as  adversaries. 

Philippe,  who  carefully  investigated  all  the  circum- 
stances of  his  brother's  arrest  and  the  antecedents  of 
Gilet  and  the  Rabouilleuse,  was  finally  brought  into 
rather  close  relations  with  Fario,  who  lived  near  him. 
After  studying  the  Spaniard,  Philippe  thought  he  might 
trust  a  man  of  that  quality.  The  two  found  their  hatred 
so  firm  a  bond  of  union,  that  Fario  put  himself  at 
Philippe's  disposal,  and  related  all  that  he  knew  about 
the  Knights  of  Idleness.     Philippe  promised,  in  case  he 


294  The  Two  Brothers. 

succeeded  in  obtaining  over  his  uncle  the  power  now 
exercised  hy  Gilet,  to  indemnify  Fario  for  his  losses ; 
this  bait  made  the  Spaniard  his  henchman.  Maxence 
was  now  face  to  face  with  a  dangerous  foe ;  he  had,  as 
the3T  say  in  those  parts,  some  one  to  handle.  Roused 
by  much  gossip  and  various  rumors,  the  town  of  Issou- 
dun  expected  a  mortal  combat  between  the  two  men, 
who,  we  must  remark,  mutually  despised  each  other. 

One  morning,  towards  the  end  of  November,  Philippe 
met  Monsieur  Hochon  about  twelve  o'clock,  in  the  long 
avenue  of  Frapesle,  and  said  to  him  :  — 

"I  have  discovered  that  your  grandsons  Baruch  and 
Francois  are  the  intimate  friends  of  Maxence  Gilet. 
The  rascals  are  mixed  up  in  all  the  pranks  that  are 
played  about  this  town  at  night.  It  was  through  them 
that  Maxence  knew  what  was  said  in  your  house  when 
my  mother  and  brother  were  staying  there." 

•*  How  did  you  get  proof  of  such  a  monstrous  thing?  " 

"  I  overheard  their  conversation  one  night  as  they 
were  leaving  a  drinking-shop.  Your  grandsons  both 
owe  Max  more  than  three  thousand  francs.  The  scoun- 
drel told  the  lads  to  try  and  find  out  our  intentions  ;  he 
reminded  them  that  you  had  once  thought  of  getting 
round  nry  uncle  by  priestcraft,  and  declared  that  nobody 
but  3'ou  could  guide  me ;  for  he  thinks,  fortunately, 
that  I  am  nothing  more  than  a  sabreur." 

t*  My  grandsons  !  is  it  possible?  " 

"  Watch  them,"  said  Philippe.  "  You  will  see  them 
coming  home  along  the  place  Saint- Jean,  at  two  or  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  as  tipsy  as  champagne-corks, 
and  in  compan\T  with  Gilet — " 

"  That's  why  the  scamps  keep  so  sober  at  home!  " 
cried  Monsieur  Hochon. 


The  Two  Brothers.  295 

"Fario  has  told  me  all  about  their  nocturnal  proceed- 
ings," resumed  Philippe  ;  lh  without  him,  I  should  never 
have  suspected  them.  My  uncle  is  held  down  under  an 
absolute  thraldom,  if  I  ma}'  judge  by  certain  things 
which  the  Spaniard  has  heard  Max  say  to  your  boys. 
I  suspect  Max  and  the  Rabouilleuse  of  a  scheme  to  make 
sure  of  the  fifty  thousand  francs'  income  from  the  Funds, 
and  then,  after  pulling  that  feather  from  their  pigeon's 
wing,  to  run  awa}*,  I  don't  know  where,  and  get  mar- 
ried. It  is  high  time  to  know  what  is  going  on  under 
my  uncle's  roof,  but  I  don't  see  how  to  set  about  it." 

"  I  will  think  of  it,"  said  the  old  man. 

They  separated,  for  several  persons  were  now 
approaching. 

Never,  at  any  time  in  his  life,  did  Jean-Jacques 
Rouget  suffer  as  he  had  done  since  the  first  visit  of  his 
nephew  Philippe.  Flore  was  terrified  by  the  presenti- 
ment of  some  evil  that  threatened  Max.  Weary  of  her 
master,  and  fearing  that  he  might  live  to  be  very  old, 
since  he  was  able  to  bear  up  under  their  criminal  prac- 
tices, she  formed  the  very  simple  plan  of  leaving  Issou- 
dun  and  being  married  to  Maxence  in  Paris,  after 
obtaining  from  Jean-Jacques  the  transfer  of  the  income 
in  the  Funds.  The  old  bachelor,  guided,  not  by  any 
justice  to  his  famil}-,  nor  by  personal  avarice,  but  solely 
by  his  passion,  steadity  refused  to  make  the  transfer, 
on  the  ground  that  Flore  was  to  be  his  sole  heir.  The 
unhappy  creature  knew  to  what  extent  Flore  loved  Max, 
and  he  believed  he  would  be  abandoned  the  moment  she 
was  made  rich  enough  to  marry.  When  Flore,  after 
employing  the  tenderest  cajoleries,  was  unable  to  suc- 
ceed, she  tried  rigor ;  she  no  longer  spoke  to  her  mas- 
ter ;  Vedie  was  sent  to  wait  upon  him,  and  found  him 


296  The  Two  Brothers. 

in  the  morning  with  his  eyes  swollen  and  red  with  weep- 
ing. For  a  week  or  more,  poor  Rouget  had  breakfasted 
alone,  and  Heaven  knows  on  what  food  ! 

The  day  after  Philippe's  conversation  with  Monsieur 
Hochon,  he  determined  to  pay  a  second  visit  to  his 
uncle,  whom  he  found  much  changed.  Flore  sta3*ed 
beside  the  old  man,  speaking  tenderly  and  looking  at 
him  with  much  affection ;  she  played  the  corned}'  so 
well  that  Philippe  guessed  some  immediate  danger, 
merely  from  the  solicitude  thus  displayed  in  his  pres- 
ence. Gilet,  whose  polic}7  it  was  to  avoid  all  collision 
with  Philippe,  did  not  appear.  After  watching  his  uncle 
and  Flore  for  a  time  with  a  discerning  eye,  the  colonel 
judged  that  the  time  had  come  to  strike  his  grand  blow. 

"  Adieu,  m}'  dear  uncle,"  he  said,  rising  as  if  to 
leave  the  house. 

"Oh!  don't  go  yet,"  cried  the  old  man,  who  was 
comforted  by  Flore's  false  tenderness.  "  Dine  with  us, 
Philippe." 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  come  and  take  a  walk  with  me." 

"Monsieur  is  very  feeble,"  interposed  Mademoiselle 
Brazier  ;  "  just  now  he  was  unwilling  even  to  go  out  in 
the  carriage,"  she  added,  turning  upon  the  old  man  the 
fixed  look  with  which  keepers  quell  a  maniac. 

Philippe  took  Flore  by  the  arm,  compelling  her  to 
look  at  him,  and  looking  at  her  in  return  as  fixedly  as 
she  had  just  looked  at  her  victim. 

"Tell  me,  mademoiselle,"  he  said,  "  is  it  a  fact  that 
my  uncle  is  not  free  to  take  a  walk  with  me  ?  " 

'*  Why,  3Tes  he  is,  monsieur,"  replied  Flore,  who  was 
unable  to  make  any  other  answer. 

"Very  well.  Come,  uncle.  Mademoiselle,  give  him 
his  hat  and  cane." 


The  Two  Brothers.  297 

•*  But  —  he  never  goes  out  without  me.  Do  you, 
monsieur?  " 

44  Yes,  Philippe,  yes  ;  I  always  want  her  —  " 

44  It  would  be  better  to  take  the  carriage,'*  said 
Flore. 

44  Yes,  let  us  take  the  carriage,"  cried  the  old  man, 
in  his  anxiety  to  make  his  two  tyrants  agree. 

4i  Uncle,  you  will  come  with  me,  alone,  and  on  foot, 
or  I  shall  never  return  here ;  I  shall  know  that  the  town 
of  Issoudun  tells  the  truth,  when  it  declares  you  are 
under  the  dominion  of  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier. 
That  my  uncle  should  love  you,  is  all  veiy  well,"  he 
resumed,  holding  Flore  with  a  fixed  eye;  44  that  30U 
should  not  love  my  uncle  is  also  on  the  cards ;  but 
when  it  comes  to  3*our  making  him  unhappy  —  halt ! 
If  people  want  to  get  hold  of  an  inheritance,  they  must 
earn  it.     Are  30U  coming,  uncle ?  " 

Philippe  saw  the  eyes  of  the  poor  imbecile  roving 
from  himself  to  Flore,  in  painful  hesitation. 

44  Ha!  that's  how  it  is,  is  it?"  resumed  the  lieu- 
tenant-colonel. 44  Well,  adieu,  uncle.  Mademoiselle, 
I  kiss  your  hands." 

He  turned  quickly  when  he  reached  the  door,  and 
caught  Flore  in  the  act  of  making  a  menacing  gesture 
at  his  uncle. 

44  Uncle,"  he  said,  44  if  you  wish  to  go  with  me,  I 
will  meet  3-011  at  3rour  door  in  ten  minutes :  I  am  now 
going  to  see  Monsieur  Hochon.  If  30U  and  I  do  not 
take  that  walk,  I  shall  take  upon  myself  to  make  some 
others  walk." 

So  saying,  he  went  awa3~,  and  crossed  the  place 
Saint-Jean  to  the  Hochons. 

Every  one  can  imagine  the  scenes  which  the  rcvela- 


298  The  Two  Brothers. 

tions  made  by  Philippe  to  Monsieur  Hochon  had  brougnt 
about  in  that  family.  At  nine  o'clock,  old  Monsieur 
Heron,  the  notary,  presented  himself  with  a  bundle  of 
papers,  and  found  a  fire  in  the  hall  which  the  old  miser, 
contrary  to  all  his  habits,  had  ordered  to  be  lighted. 
Madame  Hochon,  already  dressed  at  this  unusual  hour, 
was  sitting  in  her  armchair  at  the  corner  of  the  fire- 
place. The  two  grandsons,  warned  the  night  before 
by  Adolphine  that  a  storm  was  gathering  about  their 
heads,  had  been  ordered  to  stay  in  the  house.  Sum- 
moned now  by  Gritte,  they  were  alarmed  at  the  formal 
preparations  of  their  grandparents,  whose  coldness  and 
anger  they  had  been  made  to  feel  in  the  air  for  the  last 
twenty-four  hours. 

''Don't  rise  for  them,"  said  their  grandfather  to 
Monsieur  Heron  ;  'kyou  see  before  you  two  miscreants, 
unworthy  of  pardon." 

"Oh,  grandpapa  !  "  said  Francois. 

"  Be  silent !  "  said  the  old  man  sternly.  "  I  know  of 
your  nocturnal  life  and  your  intimacy"  with  Monsieur 
Maxence  Gilet.  But  3*011  will  meet  him  no  more  at 
Mere  Cognette's  at  one  in  the  morning ;  for  you  will 
not  leave  this  house,  either  of  you,  until  you  go  to  your 
respective  destinations.  Ha!  it  was  you  who  ruined 
Fario,  was  it?  you,  who  have  narrowly  escaped  the 
police-courts  —  Hold  your  tongue  !  "  he  said,  seeing  that 
Baruch  was  about  to  speak.  "  You  both  owe  money  to 
Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet ;  who,  for  six  years,  has  paid  for 
your  debauchery.  Listen,  both  of  you,  to  my  guardian- 
ship accounts ;  after  that,  I  shall  have  more  to  say. 
You  will  see,  after  these  papers  are  read,  whether  you 
can  still  trifle  with  me,  —  still  trifle  with  family  laws  by 
betraying  the  secrets  of  this  house,  and  reporting  to  a 


The  Two  Brothers.  299 

Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet  what  is  said  and  what  is  done 
here.  For  three  thousand  francs,  3*011  became  spies  ;  for 
ten  thousand,  you  would,  no  doubt,  become  assassins. 
You  did  almost  kill  Madame  Bridau  ;  for  Monsieur  Gilet 
knew  very  well  it  was  Fario  who  stabbed  him  when  he 
threw  the  crime  upon  my  guest,  Monsieur  Joseph 
Bridau.  If  that  jail-bird  did  so  wicked  an  act,  it  was 
because  3'ou  told  him  what  Madame  Bridau  meant  to  do. 
You,  my  grandsons,  the  spies  of  such  a  man  !  You, 
house-breakers  and  marauders !  Don't  you  know  that 
your  worthy  leader  killed  a  poor  3*oung  woman,  in  1806  ? 
I  will  not  have  assassins  and  thieves  in  my  family. 
Pack  3"our  things  ;  3011  shall  go  hang  elsewhere  !  " 

The  two  young  men  turned  white  and  stiff  as  plaster 
casts. 

"  Read  on,  Monsieur  Heron,"  said  Hochon. 

The  old  notary  read  the  guardianship  accounts  ;  from 
which  it  appeared  that  the  net  fortune  of  the  two 
Borniche  children  amounted  to  sevent3*  thousand  francs, 
a  sum  derived  from  the  dowty  of  their  mother :  but 
Monsieur  Hochon  had  lent  his  daughter  various  large 
sums,  and  was  now,  as  creditor,  the  owner  of  a  part  of 
the  property  of  his  Borniche  grandchildren.  The  por- 
tion coming  to  Baruch  amounted  to  onty  twenty^  thou- 
sand francs. 

4 'Now  3*011  are  rich,"  said  the  old  man,  "take  3-our 
money,  and  go.  I  remain  master  of  1113'  own  property 
and  that  of  Madame  Hochon,  who  in  this  matter  shares 
all  my  intentions,  and  I  shall  give  it  to  whom  I  choose ; 
namely,  our  dear  Adolphine.  Yes,  we  can  marry  her 
if  we  please  to  the  son  of  a  peer  of  France,  for  she  will 
be  an  heiress." 

"  A  noble  fortune  !  "  said  Monsieur  Heron. 


300  The  Two  Brothers. 

"Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet  will  make  up  this  loss  to 
you,"  said  Madame  Hochon. 

44  Let  m}T  hard-saved  money  go  to  a  scapegrace  like 
you?  no,  indeed  !  "  cried  Monsieur  Hochon. 

44  Forgive  me  !  "  stammered  Baruch. 

44  4  Forgive,  and  I  won't  do  it  again,' "  sneered  the  old 
man,  imitating  a  child's  voice.  44  If  I  were  to  forgive 
you,  and  let  you  out  of  this  house,  you  would  go  and 
tell  Monsieur  Maxence  what  has  happened,  and  wain 
him  to  be  on  his  guard.  No,  no,  my  little  men.  I 
shall  keep  my  eye  on  you,  and  I  have  means  of  know- 
ing what  you  do.  As  30U  behave,  so  shall  I  behave  to 
you.  It  will  be  by  a  long  course  of  good  conduct,  not 
that  of  a  day  or  a  month,  but  of  }Tears,  that  I  shall 
judge  3'ou.  I  am  strong  on  m}T  legs,  my  eyes  are  good, 
my  health  is  sound ;  I  hope  to  live  long  enough  to  see 
what  road  you  take.  Your  first  move  will  be  to  Paris, 
where  you  will  study  banking  under  Messieurs  Mon- 
genod  and  Sons.  Ill-luck  to  30U  if  you  don't  walk 
straight;  you  will  be  watched.  Your  property  is  in 
the  hand  of  Messieurs  Mongenod ;  here  is  a  cheque 
for  the  amount.  Now  then,  release  me  as  guardian, 
and  sign  the  accounts,  and  also  this  receipt,"  he  added, 
taking  the  papers  from  Monsieur  Heron  and  handing 
them  to  Baruch. 

44  As  for  }tou,  Francois  Hochon,  3-011  owe  me  mone3' 
instead  of  having  an3r  to  receive,"  said  the  old  man, 
looking  at  his  other  grandson.  44  Monsieur  Heron,  read 
his  account ;  it  is  all  clear  —  perfectly  clear." 

The  reading  was  done  in  the  midst  of  perfect  stillness. 

44  You  will  have  six  hundred  francs  a  3rear,  and  with 
that  3'ou  will  go  to  Poitiers  and  study  law,"  said  the 
grandfather,  when  the  notaiy  had  finished.     44I  had 


The  Two  Brothers.  301 

fizie  life  in  prospect  for  3-011 ;  but  now,  3Tou  must  earn 
3Tour  living  as  a  lawyer.  Ah  !  ni3T  young  rascals,  you 
have  deceived  me  for  six  years  ;  3-011  now  know  it  has 
taken  me  but  one  hour  to  get  even  with  you :  I  have 
seven-leagued  boots." 

Just  as  old  Monsieur  Heron  was  preparing  to  leave 
with  the  signed  papers,  Gritte  announced  Colonel 
Bridau.  Madame  Hochon  left  the  room,  taking  her 
grandsons  with  her,  that  she  might,  as  old  Hochon  said, 
confess  them  privately  and  find  out  what  effect  this 
scene  had  produced  upon  them. 

Philippe  and  the  old  man  stood  in  the  embrasure  of 
a  window  and  spoke  in  low  tones. 

"I  have  been  reflecting  on  the  state  of  3-our  affairs 
over  there,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon  pointing  to  the 
Rouget  house.  M  I  have  just  had  a  talk  with  Monsieur 
Heron.  The  security  for  the  fifty  thousand  francs  a 
3-ear  from  the  property  in  the  Funds  cannot  be  sold 
unless  1)3-  the  owner  himself  or  some  one  with  a  pow-er 
of  attorney  from  him.  Now,  since  your  arrival  here, 
your  uncle  has  not  signed  any  such  power  before  an3T 
notary  ;  and,  as  he  has  not  left  Issoudun,  he  can't  have 
signed  one  elsewhere.  If  he  attempts  to  give  a  power 
of  attorney  here,  we  shall  know  it  instantly  ;  if  he  goes 
away-  to  give  one,  we  shall  also  know  it,  for  it  will  have 
to  be  registered,  and  that  excellent  Heron  has  means  of 
finding  it  out.  Therefore,  if  old  Rouget  leaves  Issou- 
dun, have  him  followed,  learn  where  he  goes,  and  we 
will  find  a  wa3T  to  discover  what  he  does." 

"The  power  of  attorn  e3*  has  not  been  given,"  said 
Philippe  ;  "  the3'  are  trying  to  get  it ;  but  —  they  —  will 
—  not  —  sue  —  ceed  —  "  added  the  vagabond,  whose 
eye  just  then  caught  sight  of  his  uncle  on  the  steps  of 


302  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  opposite  house :  he  pointed  him  out  to  Monsieur 
Hochon  and  related  succinctly  the  particulars,  at  once 
so  petty  and  so  important,  of  his  visit. 

"  Maxence  is  afraid  of  me,  but  he  can't  evade  me. 
Mignonnet  says  that  all  the  officers  of  the  old  army  who 
are  in  Issouclun  give  a  yearly  banquet  on  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  Emperor's  coronation ;  so  Maxence  Gilet 
and  I  are  sure  to  meet  in  a  few  days." 

"  If  he  gets  a  power  of  attornej*  by  the  morning  of 
the  first  of  December,"  said  Hochon,  "he  might  take 
the  mail-post  for  Paris,  and  give  up  the  banquet." 

"  Very  good.  The  first  thing  is,  then,  to  get  posses- 
sion of  my  uncle ;  I  've  an  eye  that  cows  a  fool,"  said 
Philippe,  giving  Monsieur  Hochon  an  atrocious  glance 
that  made  the  old  man  tremble. 

"  If  they  let  him  walk  with  you,  Maxence  must  be- 
lieve he  has  found  some  means  to  win  the  game,"  re- 
marked the  old  miser. 

"  Oh!  Fario  is  on  the  watch,"  said  Philippe,  "and 
he  is  not  alone.  That  Spaniard  has  discovered  one  of 
my  old  soldiers  in  the  neighborhood  of  Vatan,  a  man  I 
once  did  some  service  to.  Without  any  one's  suspect- 
ing it,  Benjamin  Bourdet  is  under  Fario's  orders,  who 
has  lent  him  a  horse  to  get  about  with." 

"  If  you  kill  that  monster  who  has  corrupted 
my  grandsons,  I  shall  sa}'  you  have  done  a  good 
deed." 

"Thanks  to  me,  the  town  of  Issoudun  now  knows 
what  Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet  has  been  doing  at  night 
for  the  last  six  years,"  replied  Philippe;  "and  the 
cackle,  as  you  call  it  here,  is  now  started  on  him.  Mor- 
ally his  da}'  is  over." 

The  moment  Philippe  left  his  uncle's   house  Flore 


The  Two  Brothers.  303 

went  to  Max's  room  to  tell  him  every  particular  of  the 
nephew's  bold  visit. 

"  What 's  to  be  done?"  she  asked. 

"Before  trying  the  last  means, — which  will  be  to 
fight  that  big  reprobate,"  replied  Maxence,  —  "  we  must 
play  double  or  quits,  and  try  our  grand  stroke.  Let 
the  old  idiot  go  with  his  nephew." 

tkBut  that  big  brute  won't  mince  matters,"  remon- 
strated Flore  ;  "  he  '11  call  things  b}'  their  right  names." 

"  Listen  to  me,"  said  Maxence  in  a  harsh  voice.  "  Do 
3'ou  think  I  've  not  kept  my  ears  open,  and  reflected 
about  how  we  stand?  Send  to  Pere  Cognette  for  a 
horse  and  a  char-a-banc,  and  say  we  want  them  in- 
stantly :  they  must  be  here  in  five  minutes.  Pack  all 
3rour  belongings,  take  Vedie,  and  go  to  Vatan.  Settle 
yourself  there  as  if  you  meant  to  stay ;  carry  off  the 
twenty  thousand  francs  in  gold  which  the  old  fellow 
has  got  in  his  drawer.  If  I  bring  him  to  you  at  Vatan, 
you  are  to  refuse  to  come  back  here  unless  he  signs  the 
power  of  attorne}7.  As  soon  as  we  get  it  I  '11  slip  off 
to  Paris,  while  you  are  returning  to  Issoudun.  When 
Jean-Jacques  gets  back  from  his  walk  and  finds  3011 
gone,  he  '11  go  beside  himself,  and  want  to  follow  you. 
Well !  when  he  does,  I  '11  give  him  a  talking  to." 


304  The  Two  Brothers. 


XV. 


While  the  foregoing  plot  was  progressing,  Philippe 
was  walking  arm  in  arm  with  his  uncle  along  the  boule- 
vard Baron. 

"  The  two  great  tacticians  are  coming  to  close  quar- 
ters at  last,"  thought  Monsieur  Hochon  as  he  watched 
the  colonel  marching  off  with  his  uncle  ;  "lam  curious 
to  see  the  end  of  the  game,  and  what  becomes  of  the 
stake  of  ninety  thousand  francs  a  year." 

44  My  dear  uncle,"  said  Philippe,  whose  phraseology 
had  a  flavor  of  his  affinities  in  Paris,  ki  you  love  this 
girl,  and  yon  are  devilishly  right.  She  is  damnably  hand- 
some !  Instead  of  billing  and  cooing  she  makes  you 
trot  like  a  valet ;  well,  that 's  all  simple  enough ;  but 
she  wants  to  see  3-011  six  feet  underground,  so  that  she 
ma}'  marry  Max,  whom  she  adores." 

44  I  know  that,  Philippe,  but  I  love  her  all  the  same." 

'*  Well,  I  have  sworn  by  the  soul  of  m}-  mother,  who 
is  yon?  own  sister,"  continued  Philippe,  4i  to  make  your 
Rabouilleuse  as  supple  as  my  glove,  and  the  same  as 
she  was  before  that  scoundrel,  who  is  unworthy  to  have 
served  in  the  Imperial  Guard,  ever  came  to  quarter  him- 
self in  3  our  house." 

44  Ah  !  if  you  could  do  that !  —  "  said  the  old  man. 

44  It  is  very  easy,"  answered  Philippe,  cutting  his  un- 
cle short.  44I'll  kill  Max  as  I  would  a  dog;  but  — 
on  one  condition,"  added  the  old  campaigner. 


The  Two  Brothers.  305 

"  What  is  that?  "  said  Ronget,  looking  at  his  nephew 
in  a  stupid  way. 

"  Don't  sign  that  power  of  attorney  which  they  want 
of  you  before  the  third  of  December;  put  them  off  till 
then.  Your  torturers  only  want  it  to  enable  them  to  sell 
the  fifty  thousand  a  year  you  have  in  the  Funds,  so  that 
they  may  run  off"  to  Paris  and  pay  for  their  wedding 
festivities  out  of  your  millions." 

41 1  am  afraid  so,"  replied  Rouget. 

44  Well,  whatever  they  ma}-  say  or  do  to  3rou,  put  off 
giving  that  power  of  attorney  until  next  week." 

i  l  Yes  ;  but  when  Flore  talks  to  me  she  stirs  my  very 
soul,  till  I  don't  know  what  I  do.  I  give  you  my  word, 
when  she  looks  at  me  in  a  certain  way,  her  blue  eyes 
seem  like  paradise,  and  I  am  no  longer  master  of  my- 
self, —  especially  when  for  some  days  she  had  been 
harsh  to  me." 

"  Well,  whether  she  is  sweet  or  sour,  don't  do  more 
than  promise  to  sign  the  paper,  and  let  me  know  the 
night  before  you  are  going  to  do  it.  That  will  answer. 
Maxence  shall  not  be  your  proxy  unless  he  first  kills 
me.  If  I  kill  him,  }-ou  must  agree  to  take  me  in  his 
place,  and  I  '11  undertake  to  break  in  that  handsome  girl 
and  keep  her  at  your  beck  and  call.  Yes,  Flore  shall 
love  you,  and  if  she  doesn't  satisfy  you  —  thunder! 
I  '11  thrash  her." 

"Oh!  I  never  could  allow  that.  A  blow  struck  at 
Flore  would  break  nry  heart." 

"  But  it  is  the  only  way  to  govern  women  and  horses. 
A  man  makes  himself  feared,  or  loved,  or  respected. 
Now  that  is  what  I  wanted  to  whisper  in  your  ear  — 
Good-morning,  gentlemen,"  he  said  to  Mignonnet  and 
Carpentier,  who  came  up  at  the  moment ;  "lam  taking 

20 


306  The  Two  Brothers. 

my  uncle  for  a  walk,  as  }Tou  see,  and  trying  to  improve 
him ;  for  we  are  in  an  age  when  children  are  obliged 
to  educate  their  grandparents." 

They  all  bowed  to  each  other. 

14  You  behold  in  my  dear  uncle  the  effects  of  an  un- 
happy passion.  Those  two  want  to  strip  him  of  his 
fortune  and  leave  him  in  the  lurch  —  you  know  to  whom 
I  refer?  He  sees  the  plot;  but  he  has  n't  the  courage 
to  give  up  his  sugar-plum  for  a  few  daj-s  so  as  to 
baffle  it." 

Philippe  briefly  explained  his  uncle's  position. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  remarked,  in  conclusion,  'k  you  see 
there  are  no  two  ways  of  saving  him  :  either  Colonel 
Bridau  must  kill  Captain  Gilet,  or  Captain  Gilet  must 
kill  Colonel  Bridau.  We  celebrate  the  Emperor's  coro- 
nation on  the  day  after  to-morrow  ;  I  rely  upon  you  to 
arrange  the  seats  at  the  banquet  so  that  I  shall  sit 
opposite  to  Gilet.  You  will  do  me  the  honor,  I  hope, 
of  being  nvy  seconds." 

"  We  will  appoint  you  to  preside,  and  sit  ourselves 
on  either  side  of  you.  Max,  as  vice-president,  will  of 
course  sit  opposite,"  said  Mignonnet. 

u  Oh  !  the  scoundrel  will  have  Potel  and  Renard  with 
him,"  said  Carpentier.  "  In  spite  of  all  that  Issoudun 
now  knows  and  says  of  his  midnight  maraudings,  those 
two  worthy  officers,  who  have  already  been  his  seconds, 
remain  faithful  to  him." 

"  You  see  how  it  all  maps  out,  uncle,"  said  Philippe. 
''Therefore,  sign  no  paper  before  the  third  of  Decem- 
ber ;  the  next  day  30U  shall  be  free,  happy,  and  beloved 
by  Flore,  without  having  to  coax  for  it." 

"You  don't  know  him,  Philippe,"  said  the  terrified 
old  man.     "  Maxence  has  killed  nine  men  in  duels." 


The,  Two  Brothers.  307 

"  Yes ;  but  ninety  thousand  francs  a  year  did  n't 
depend  on  it,"  answered  Philippe. 

"  A  bad  conscience  shakes  the  hand,"  remarked 
Mignonnet  sententiously. 

"In  a  few  days  from  now,"  resumed  Philippe,  "you 
and  the  Rabouilleuse  will  be  living  together  as  sweet  as 
hone}*, — that  is,  after  she  gets  through  mourning.  At 
first  she'll  twist  like  a  worm,  and  yelp,  and  weep; 
but  never  mind,  let  the  water  run ! " 

The  two  soldiers  approved  of  Philippe's  arguments, 
and  tried  to  hearten  up  old  Rouget,  with  whom  they 
walked  about  for  nearly  two  hours.  At  last  Philippe 
took  his  uncle  home,  saying  as  they  parted  :  — 

"Don't  take  any  steps  without  me.  I  know  women. 
I  have  paid  for  one,  who  cost  me  far  more  than  Flore 
can  ever  cost  you.  But  she  taught  me  how  to  behave 
to  the  fair  sex  for  the  rest  of  my  days.  Women  are 
bad  children  ;  the\T  are  inferior  animals  to  men  ;  we 
must  make  them  fear  us ;  the  worst  condition  in  the 
world  is  to  be  governed  03*  such  brutes." 

It  was  about  half-past  two  in  the  afternoon  when 
the  old  man  got  home.  Kouski  opened  the  door  in 
tears,  —  that  is,  by  Max's  orders,  he  gave  signs  of 
weeping. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Jean- Jacques. 

"  Oh !  Monsieur,  Madame  has  gone  away,  and  taken 
Vedie  with  her  !  " 

"  Gone  —  a  —  way  !  "  said  the  old  man  in  a  strangled 
voice. 

The  blow  was  so  violent  that  Rouget  sat  down  on 
the  stairs,  unable  to  stand.  A  moment  after,  he  rose, 
looked  about  the  hall,  into  the  kitchen,  went  up  to  his 
own  room,  searched  all  the  chambers,  and  returned  to 


308  The  Two  Brothers. 

the  salon,  where  he  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

"  Where  is  she?"  he  sobbed.  "Oh!  where  is  she? 
where  is  Max  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Kouski.  "The  captain 
went  out  without  telling  me." 

Gilet  thought  it  politic  to  be  seen  sauntering  about 
the  town.  By  leaving  the  old  man  alone  with  his 
despair,  he  knew  he  should  make  him  feel  his  deser- 
tion the  more  keenly,  and  reduce  him  to  docilit}\  To 
keep  Philippe  from  assisting  his  uncle  at  this  crisis, 
he  had  given  Kouski  strict  orders  not  to  open  the  door 
to  any  one.  Flore  away,  the  miserable  old  man  grew 
frantic,  and  the  situation  of  things  approached  a  crisis. 
During  his  walk  through  the  town,  Maxence  Gilet  was 
avoided  by  many  persons  who  a  day  or  two  earlier 
would  have  hastened  to  shake  hands  with  him.  A 
general  reaction  had  set  in  against  him.  The  deeds 
of  the  Knights  of  Idleness  were  ringing  on  every  tongue. 
The  tale  of  Joseph  Bridau's  arrest,  now  cleared  up, 
disgraced  Max  in  the  e3'es  of  all ;  and  his  life  and  con- 
duct received  in  one  day  their  just  award.  Gilet  met 
Captain  Potel,  who  was  looking  for  him,  and  seemed 
almost  beside  himself. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Potel?" 

"  My  dear  fellow,  the  Imperial  Guard  is  being  black- 
guarded all  over  the  town !  These  civilians  are 
crying  you  down !  and  it  goes  to  the  bottom  of  my 
heart." 

"What  are  they  complaining  of?"  asked  Max. 

"Of  what  you  do  at  night." 

"As  if  we  couldn't  amuse  ourselves  a  little!" 

"But  that  isn't  all,"  said  Potel. 


The  Two  Brothers.  309 

Potel  belonged  to  the  same  class  as  the  officer  who 
replied  to  the  burgomasters  :  "  Eh  !  your  town  will  be 
paid  for,  if  we  do  burn  it ! "  So  he  was  very  little 
troubled  about  the  deeds  of  the  Order  of  Idleness. 

' '  What  more  ?  "  inquired  Gilet. 

"  The  Guard  is  against  the  Guard.  It  is  that  that 
breaks  my  heart.  Bridau  has  set  all  these  bourgeois 
on  you.  The  Guard  against  the  Guard !  no,  it  ought 
not  to  be !  You  can't  back  down,  Max ;  you  must 
meet  Bridau.  I  had  a  great  mind  to  pick  a  quarrel 
with  the  low  scoundrel  myself  and  send  him  to  the 
shades  ;  I  wish  I  had,  and  then  the  bourgeois  would  n't 
have  seen  the  spectacle  of  the  Guard  against  the  Guard. 
In  war  times,  I  don't  say  anything  against  it.  Two 
heroes  of  the  Guard  may  quarrel,  and  fight, — but  at 
least  there  are  no  civilians  to  look  on  and  sneer.  No, 
I  say  that  big  villain  never  served  in  the  Guard.  A 
guardsman  would  never  behave  as  he  does  to  another 
guardsman,  under  the  verj'  eyes  of  the  bourgeois ; 
impossible !  Ah !  it 's  all  wrong ;  the  Guard  is  dis- 
graced —  and  here,  at  Issoudun !  where  it  was  once 
so  honored." 

"  Come,  Potel,  don't  worry  yourself,"  answered 
Max  ;  "  even  if  you  do  not  see  me  at  the  banquet —  " 

"What!  do  you  mean  that  you  won't  be  there  the 
day  after  to-morrow?"  cried  Potel,  interrupting  his 
friend.  "Do  you  wish  to  be  called  a  coward?  and  have 
it  said  3'ou  are  running  away  from  Bridau  ?  No,  no ! 
The  unmounted  grenadiers  of  the  Guard  can  not  draw 
back  before  the  dragoons  of  the  Guard.  Arrange  your 
business  in  some  other  waj*  and  be  there  !  " 

"  One  more  to  send  to  the  shades ! "  said  Max. 
"  Well,  I  think  I  can  manage  my  business  so  as  to  get 


310  The  Two  Brothers. 

there  —  For,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "that  power  of 
attorney  ought  not  to  be  in  my  name ;  as  old  Heron 
says,  it  would  look  too  much  like  theft." 

This  lion,  tangled  in  the  meshes  Philippe  Bridau  was 
weaving  for  him,  muttered  between  his  teeth  as  he  went 
along ;  he  avoided  the  looks  of  those  he  met  and  re- 
turned home  by  the  boulevard  Vilatte,  still  talking  to 
himself. 

"I  will  have  that  money  before  I  fight,"  he  said. 
"  If  I  die,  it  shall  not  go  to  Philippe.  I  must  put  it  in 
Flore's  name.  She  will  follow  my  instructions,  and  go 
straight  to  Paris.  Once  there,  she  can  many,  if  she 
chooses,  the  son  of  some  marshal  of  France  who  has 
been  sent  to  the  right-about.  I  '11  have  that  power  of 
attorney  made  in  Baruch's  name,  and  he  '11  transfer  the 
property  by  my  order." 

Max,  to  do  him  justice,  was  never  more  cool  and 
calm  in  appearance  than  when  his  blood  and  his  ideas 
were  boiling.  No  man  ever  united  in  a  higher  degree 
the  qualities  which  make  a  great  general.  If  his  career 
had  not  been  cut  short  by  his  captivity  at  Cabrera,  the 
Emperor  would  certainly  have  found  him  one  of  those 
men  who  are  necessary  to  the  success  of  vast  enter- 
prises. When  he  entered  the  room  where  the  hapless 
victim  of  all  these  comic  and  tragic  scenes  was  still 
weeping,  Max  asked  the  meaning  of  such  distress ; 
seemed  surprised,  pretended  that  he  knew  nothing,  and 
heard,  with  well-acted  amazement,  of  Flore's  departure. 
He  .questioned  Kouski,  to  obtain  some  light  on  the 
object  of  this  inexplicable  journey. 

"Madame  said  like  this,"  Kouski  replied,  —  "  that  I 
was  to  tell  monsieur  she  had  taken  twent}'  thousand 
francs  in  gold  from  his  drawer,  thinking  that  monsieur 


The  Two  Brothers.  311 

would  n't  refuse  her  that  amount  as  wages  for  the  last 
twenty-two  years." 

"  Wages?  "  exclaimed  Rouget. 

44  Yes,"  replied  Kouski.  44  '  Ah  !  I  shall  never  come 
back,'  "  she  said  to  Vedie,  as  she  drove  awa}\  44  Poor 
Vedie,  who  is  so  attached  to  monsieur,  remonstrated 
with  madame.  '  No,  no,'  she  answered,  '  he  has  no 
affection  for  me ;  he  lets  his  nephew  treat  me  like  the 
lowest  of  the  low  ; '  and  she  wept  —  oh  !  bitterly." 

4  4  Eh !  what  do  I  care  for  Philippe  ?  "  cried  the  old 
man,  whom  Max  wras  watching.  "Where  is  Flore? 
how  can  we  find  out  where  she  is?" 

"  Philippe,  whose  advice  you  follow,  will  help  you," 
said  Max  coldly. 

"Philippe?"  said  the  old  man,  u  what  has  he  to  do 
with  the  poor  child?  There  is  no  one  but  you,  m}-  good 
Max,  who  can  find  Flore.  She  will  follow  you  —  you 
could  bring  her  back  to  me  —  " 

44 1  don't  wish  to  oppose  Monsieur  Bridau,"  observed 
Max. 

44  As  for  that,"  cried  Rouget,  4'if  that  hinders  you, 
he  told  me  he  meant  to  kill  you." 

44  Ah!"  exclaimed  Gilet,  laughing,  44  we  will  see 
about  it !  " 

44  My  friend,"  said  the  old  man,  44find  Flore,  and  I 
will  do  all  she  wants  of  me." 

44  Some  one  must  have  seen  her  as  she  passed  through 
the  town,"  said  Maxence  to  Kouski.  4t  Serve  dinner; 
put  everything  on  the  table,  and  then  go  and  make  in- 
quiries from  place  to  place.  Let  us  know,  b}T  dessert, 
which  road  Mademoiselle  Brazier  has  taken." 

This  order  quieted  for  a  time  the  poor  creature,  who 
was  moaning  like  a  child  that  has  lost  its  nurse.     At 


312  The  Two  Brothers. 

this  moment  Rouget,  who  hated  Max,  thought  his  tor- 
mentor an  angel.  A  passion  like  that  of  this  miserable 
old  man  for  Flore  is  astonishingly  like  the  emotions  of 
childhood.  At  six  o'clock,  the  Pole,  who  had  merely 
taken  a  walk,  returned  to  announce  that  Flore  had 
driven  towards  Vatan. 

"Madame  is  going  back  to  her  own  people,  that's 
plain,"  said  Kouski. 

"Would  you  like  to  go  to  Vatan  to-night?"  said 
Max.  "The  road  is  bad,  but  Kouski  knows  how  to 
drive,  and  }rou  '11  make  jour  peace  better  to-night  than 
to-morrow  morning." 

"  Let  us  go  !  "  cried  Rouget. 

"Put  the  horse  in  quietly,"  said  Max  to  Kouski-, 
"  manage,  if  3011  can,  that  the  town  shall  not  know  of 
this  nonsense,  for  Monsieur  Rouget's  sake.  Saddle  my 
horse,"  he  added  in  a  whisper.  "  I  will  ride  on  ahead 
of  you." 

Monsieur  Hochon  had  already  notified  Philippe  of 
Flore's  departure  ;  and  the  colonel  rose  from  Monsieur 
Mignonnet's  dinner-table  to  rush  to  the  place  Saint- 
Jean  ;  for  he  at  once  guessed  the  meaning  of  this 
clever  strategy.  When  Philippe  presented  himself 
at  his  uncle's  house,  Kouski  answered  through  a 
window  that  Monsieur  Rouget  was  unable  to  see 
any  one. 

"  Fario,"  said  Philippe  to  the  Spaniard,  who  was 
stationed  in  the  Grancle-Narette,  "go  and  tell  Benja- 
min to  mount  his  horse  ;  it  is  all-important  that  I  shall 
know  what  Gilet  does  with  my  uncle." 

"They  are  now  putting  the  horse  into  the  caleche," 
said  Fario,  who  had  been  watching  the  Rouget  stable. 

"  If  the}'  go  towards  Vatan,"  answered  Philippe,  "  get 


I 


Tlie  Two  Brothers.  313 

me  another  horse,  and  come  j'ourself  with  Benjamin  to 
Monsieur  Mignonnet's. 

"What  do  }'ou  mean  to  do?"  asked  Monsieur 
Hochon,  who  had  come  out  of  his  own  house  when  he 
saw  Philippe  and  Fario  standing  together. 

"  The  genius  of  a  general,  my  dear  Monsieur  Hochon," 
said  Philippe,  "  consists  not  only  in  carefully  observ- 
ing the  enemy's  movements,  but  also  in  guessing  his 
intentions  from  those  movements,  and  in  modif}Ting  his 
own  plan  whenever  the  enemy  interferes  with  it  by 
some  unexpected  action.  Now,  if  my  uncle  and  Max 
drive  out  together,  they  are  going  i,o  Vatan  ;  Maxence 
will  have  promised  to  reconcile  him  with  Flore,  who 
fugit  ad  salices,  —  the  manoeuvre  is  General  Virgil's. 
If  that 's  the  line  the}^  take,  I  don't  yet  know  what  I 
shall  do ;  I  shall  have  some  hours  to  think  it  over,  for 
my  uncle  can't  sign  a  power  of  attorney  at  ten  o'clock 
at  night ;  the  notaries  will  all  be  in  bed.  If,  as  I  rather 
fancy,  Max  goes  on  in  advance  of  my  uncle  to  teach 
Flore  her  lesson,  —  which  seems  necessary  and  probable, 
—  the  rogue  is  lost !  you  will  see  the  sort  of  revenge 
we  old  soldiers  take  in  a  game  of  this  kind.  Now,  as 
I  need  a  helper  for  this  last  stroke,  I  must  go  back  to 
Mignonnet's  and  make  an  arrangement  with  my  friend 
Carpentier." 

Shaking  hands  with  Monsieur  Hochon,  Philippe  went 
off  down  the  Petite-Narette  to  Mignonnet's  house. 
Ten  minutes  later,  Monsieur  Hochon  saw  %x  ride  off 
at  a  quick  trot ;  and  the  old  miser's  curiosity  was  so 
powerfully  excited  that  he  remained  standing  at  his 
window,  eagerly  expecting  to  hear  the  wheels  of  the  old 
demi-fortune,  which  was  not  long  in  coming.  Jean- 
Jacques's    impatience   made    him   follow    Max   within 


314  The  Two  Brothers. 

twent}r  minutes.  Kouski,  no  doubt  under  orders  from 
his  master,  walked  the  horse  through  the  town. 

M  If  they  get  to  Paris,  all  is  lost,"  thought  Monsieur 
Hochon. 

At  this  moment,  a  lad  from  the  faubourg  de  Rome 
came  to  the  Hochon  house  with  a  letter  for  Barnch. 
The  two  grandsons,  much  subdued  b}r  the  events  of  the 
morning,  had  kept  their  rooms  of  their  own  accord  dur- 
ing the  day.  Thinking  over  their  prospects,  they  saw 
plainly  that  the}'  had  better  be  cautious  with  their 
grandparents.  Baruch  knew  very  well  the  influence 
which  his  grandfather  Hochon  exerted  over  his  grand- 
father and  grandmother  Borniche :  Monsieur  Hochon 
would  not  hesitate  to  get  their  property  for  Adolphine 
if  his  conduct  were  such  as  to  make  them  pin  their 
hopes  on  the  grand  marriage  with  which  his  grandfather 
had  threatened  him  that  morning.  Being  richer  than 
Frangois,  Baruch  had  the  most  to  lose ;  he  therefore 
counselled  an  absolute  surrender,  with  no  other  condi- 
tion than  the  payment  of  their  debt  to  Max.  As  for 
Francois,  his  future  was  entirely  in  the  hands  of  his 
grandfather ;  he  had  no  expectations  except  from  him, 
and  by  the  guardianship  account,  he  was  now  his  debtor. 
The  two  young  men  accordingly  gave  solemn  promises 
of  amendment,  prompted  by  their  imperilled  interests, 
and  b}'  the  hope  Madame  Hochon  held  out,  that  the 
debt  to  Max  should  be  paid. 

"You  have  done  very  wrong,"  she  said  to  them; 
4 'repair  it  by  future  good  conduct,  and  Monsieur 
Hochon  will  forget  it." 

So,  when  Francois  had  read  the  letter  which  had  been 
brought  for  Baruch,  over  the  latter's  shoulder,  he  whis- 
pered in  his  ear,  "  Ask  grandpapa's  advice." 


The  Two  Brothers.  315 

11  Read  this,"  said  Baruch,  taking  the  letter  to  old 
Hochon. 

"  Read  it  to  me  yourself;  I  have  n't  my  spectacles. " 

My  dear  Friend,  —  I  hope  you  will  not  hesitate,  under 
_.ie  serious  circumstances  in  which  I  find  myself,  to  do  me 
the  service  of  receiving  a  power  of  attorney  from  Monsieur 
Rouget.  Be  at  Vatan  to-morrow  morning  at  nine  o'clock. 
I  shall  probably  send  you  to  Paris,  but  don't  be  uneasy;  I 
will  furnish  you  with  money  for  the  journey,  and  join  you 
there  immediately.  I  am  almost  sure  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
leave  Issoudun,  December  third. 

Adieu.  I  count  on  your  friendship  ;  rely  on  that  of  your 
friend,  Maxence. 

"God  be  praised!"  exclaimed  Monsieur  Hochon; 
"  the  property  of  that  old  idiot  is  saved  from  the  claws 
of  the  devil." 

"  It  will  be  if  you  say  so,"  said  Madame  Hochon; 
M  and  I  thank  God,  —  who  has  no  doubt  heard  my 
prayers.  The  prosperity  of  the  wicked  is  always 
fleeting." 

"  You  must  go  to  Vatan,  and  accept  the  power  of 
attorney  from  Monsieur  Rouget,"  said  the  old  man  to 
Baruch.  "  Their  object  is  to  get  fifty  thousand  francs 
a  year  transferred  to  Mademoiselle  Brazier.  They  will 
send  you  to  Paris,  and  you  must  seem  to  go ;  but  you 
are  to  stop  at  Orleans,  and  wait  there  till  }'ou  hear  from 
me.  Let  no  one  —  not  a  soul  —  know  where  3011  lodge  ; 
go  to  the  first  inn  you  come  to  in  the  faubourg  Bannier, 
no  matter  if  it  is  only  a  post-house  —  " 

"  Look  here  ! "  cried  Francois,  who  had  rushed  to  the 
window  at  the  sudden  noise  of  wheels  in  the  Grande- 
Narette.  "  Here 's  something  new  !  — Pere  Rouget  and 
Colonel  Bridau  coming  back  together  in  the  caleche, 


316  The  Two  Brothers. 

Benjamin  and  Captain  Carpentier  following  on  horse- 
back !  " 

"I'll  go  over,"  cried  Monsieur  Hochon,  whose  curi- 
osity carried  the  da}r  over  ever3r  other  feeling. 

Monsieur  Hochon  found  old  Rouget  in  his  bedroom, 
writing  the  following  letter  at  his  nephew's  dictation  : 

Mademoiselle,  —  If  you  do  not  start  to  return  here  the 
moment  you  receive  this  letter,  your  conduct  will  show  such 
ingratitude  for  all  my  goodness  that  I  shall  revoke  the  will  I 
have  made  in  your  favor,  and  give  my  property  to  my  nephew 
Philippe.  You  will  understand  that  Monsieur  Gilet  can  no 
longer  be  my  guest  after  staying  with  you  at  Vatan.  I  send 
this  letter  by  Captain  Carpentier,  who  will  put  it  into  your 
own  hands.  I  hope  you  will  listen  to  his  advice;  he  will 
speak  to  you  with  authority  from  me. 

Your  affectionate 

J.-J.  Rouget. 

"  Captain  Carpentier  and  I  met  my  uncle,  who  was 
so  foolish  as  to  follow  Mademoiselle  Brazier  and  Mon- 
sieur Gilet  to  Vatan,"  said  Philippe,  with  sarcastic  em- 
phasis, to  Monsieur  Hochon.  "  I  have  made  my  uncle 
see  that  he  was  running  his  head  into  a  noose  ;  for  that 
girl  will  abandon  him  the  moment  she  gets  him  to  sign 
a  power  of  attorney,  by  which  they  mean  to  obtain  the 
income  of  his  money  in  the  Funds.  That  letter  will 
bring  her  back  under  his  roof,  the  handsome  runaway  ! 
this  very  night,  or  I'm  mistaken.  I  promise  to  make 
her  as  pliable  as  a  bit  of  whalebone  for  the  rest  of  her 
days,  if  my  uncle  allows  me  to  take  Monsieur  Gilet's 
place ;  which,  in  my  opinion,  he  ought  never  to  have 
had  in  the  first  instance.  Am  I  not  right?  —  and  yet 
here  's  my  uncle  bemoaning  himself !  " 

"  Neighbor,"   said  .Monsieur   Hochon,    "  you   have 


The  Two  Brothers.  317 

taken  the  best  means  to  get  peace  in  your  household. 
Destroy  your  will,  and  Flore  will  be  once  more  what 
she  used  to  be  in  the  early  days." 

11  No,  she  will  never  forgive  me  for  what  I  have  made 
her  suffer,"  whimpered  the  old  man;  "she  will  no 
longer  love  me." 

"  She  shall  love  you,  and  closely  too;  I  '11  take  care 
of  that,"  said  Philippe. 

44  Come,    open    your    eyes!"    exclaimed    Monsieur 
Hochon.     "  They  mean  to  rob  you  and  abandon  you." 
"  Oh  !     I  was  sure  of  it !  "  cried  the  poor  imbecile. 
44  See,  here  is  a  letter  Maxence  has  written  to  nry 
grandson  Borniche,"  said  old  Hochon.     "  Read  it." 

"  What  infamy !  "  exclaimed  Carpentier,  as  he  lis- 
tened to  the  letter,  which  Rouget  read  aloud,  weeping. 

4 '  Is  that  plain  enough,  uncle?"  demanded  Philippe. 
14  Hold  that  hussy  by  her  interests  and  she  '11  adore  you 
as  you  deserve." 

44  She  loves  Maxence  too  well ;  she  will  leave  me," 
cried  the  frightened  old  man. 

44  But,  uncle,  Maxence  or  I,  —  one  or  the  other  of  us 
—  won't  leave  our  footsteps  in  the  dust  of  Issoudun 
three  days  hence." 

44  Well  then,  go,  Monsieur  Carpentier,"  said  Rouget ; 
44  if  }Tou  promise  me  to  bring  her  back,  go  !  You  are  a 
good  man ;  say  to  her  in  my  name  all  you  think  you 
ought  to  sa}\" 

44  Captain  Carpentier  will  whisper  in  her  ear  that  I 
have  sent  to  Paris  for  a  woman  whose  youth  and  beauty 
are  captivating ;  that  will  bring  the  jade  back  in  a 
hurry !  " 

The  captain  departed,  driving  himself  in  the  old 
caleche ;  Benjamin  accompanied  him  on  horseback,  for 


318  The  Two  Brothers. 

Kouski  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Though  threatened 
by  the  officers  with  arrest  and  the  loss  of  his  situation, 
the  Pole  had  gone  to  Vatan  on  a  hired  horse,  to  warn 
Max  and  Flore  of  the  adversary's  move.  After  fulfilling 
his  mission,  Carpentier,  who  did  not  wish  to  drive  back 
with  Flore,  was  to  change  places  with  Benjamin,  and 
take  the  latter  s  horse. 

When  Philippe  was  told  of  Kouski's  flight  he  said 
to  Benjamin,  "  You  will  take  the  Pole's  place,  from 
this  time  on.  It  is  all  mapping  out,  papa  Hochon  !  " 
cried  the  lieutenant-colonel.  "That  banquet  will  be 
jovial !  " 

"  You  will  come  and  live  here,  of  course,"  said  the 
old  miser. 

"  I  have  told  Fario  to  send  me  all  my  things,"  an- 
swered Philippe.  "  I  shall  sleep  in  the  room  adjoining 
Gilet's  apartment,  — if  my  uncle  consents." 

11  What  will  come  of  all  this?"  cried  the  terrified  old 
man. 

"  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier  is  coming,  gentle  as  a 
paschal  lamb,"  replied  Monsieur  Hochon. 

"  God  grant  it !  "  exclaimed  Rouget,  wiping  his  eyes. 

4 '  It  is  now  seven  o'clock,"  said  Philippe  ;  "  the  sover- 
eign of  3*0111*  heart  will  be  here  at  half-past  eleven  : 
you  '11  never  see  Gilet  again,  and  you  will  be  as  happy 
ever  after  as  a  pope.  —  If  3011  want  me  to  succeed," 
he  whispered  to  Monsieur  Hochon,  u  stay  here  till  the 
hussy  comes ;  30U  can  help  me  in  keeping  the  old  man 
up  to  his  resolution;  and,  together,  we'll  make  that 
crab-girl  see  on  which  side  her  bread  is  buttered." 

Monsieur  Hochon  felt  the  reasonableness  of  the  re- 
quest and  sta}-ed :  but  they  had  their  hands  full,  for 
old  Rouget  gave   waj-  to  childish  lamentations,  which 


The  Two  Brothers.  319 

were  only  quieted  by  Philippe's  repeating  over  and  over 
a  dozen  times  :  — 

44  Uncle,  you  will  see  that  I  am  right  when  Flore 
returns  to  you  as  tender  as  ever.  You  shall  be  petted  ; 
you  will  save  your  property :  be  guided  b}'  my  ad- 
vice, and  you  '11  live  in  paradise  for  the  rest  of  your 
days." 

When,  about  half-past  eleven,  wheels  were  heard  in 
the  Grande-Narette,  the  question  was,  whether  the  car- 
riage were  returning  full  or  empty.  Rouget's  face  wore 
an  expression  of  agony,  which  changed  to  the  prostra- 
tion of  excessive  joy  when  he  saw  the  two  women,  as 
the  carriage  turned  to  enter  the  court\Tard. 

"Kouski,"  said  Philippe,  giving  a  hand  to  Flore  to 
help  her  down.  4t  You  are  no  longer  in  Monsieur 
Rouget's  service.  You  will  not  sleep  here  to-night ;  get 
your  things  together,  and  go.  Benjamin  takes  your 
place." 

44  Are  you  the  master  here?"  said  Flore  sarcastically. 

44  With  your  permission,"  replied  Philippe,  squeezing 
her  hand  as  if  in  a  vice.  "  Come  !  we  must  have  an 
understanding,  }'Ou  and  I ;  "  and  he  led  the  bewildered 
woman  out  into  the  place  Saint- Jean. 

44  My  fine  lady,"  began  the  old  campaigner,  stretching 
out  his  right  hand,  44  three  days  hence,  Maxence  Gilet 
will  be  sent  to  the  shades  by  that  arm,  or  his  will  have 
taken  me  off  guard.  If  I  die,  }rou  will  be  mistress  of 
my  poor  imbecile  uncle  ;  bene  sit.  If  I  remain  on  m}T 
pins,  you  '11  have  to  walk  straight,  and  keep  him  sup- 
plied with  first-class  happiness.  If  you  don't,  I  know 
girls  in  Paris  who  are,  with  all  due  respect,  much 
prettier  than  you  ;  for  they  are  only  seventeen  years 
old  :  the}'  would  make  my  uncle  excessively  happj',  and 


320  TJie  Two  Brothers. 

they  are  in  1113'  interests.  Begin  3*011  r  attentions  this 
very  evening ;  if  the  old  man  is  not  as  gay  as  a  lark 
to-morrow  morning,  I  have  011I3*  a  word  to  sa3*  to  3*011 ; 
it  is  this,  pay  attention  to  it,  —  there  is  but  one  wa3*  to 
kill  a  man  without  the  interference  of  the  law,  and  that 
is  to  fight  a  duel  with  him  ;  but  I  know  three  ways  to 
get  rid  of  a  woman  :  mind  that,  m3*  beaut3* !  " 

During  this  address,  Flore  shook  like  a  person  with 
the  ague. 

44  Kill  Max?  —  *  she  said,  gazing  at  Philippe  in  the 
moonlight. 

44  Come,  here  's  m3T  uncle." 

Old  Rouget,  turning  a  deaf  ear  to  Monsieur  Hochon's 
remonstrances,  now  came  out  into  the  street,  and  took 
Flore  by  the  hand,  as  a  miser  might  have  grasped  his 
treasure ;  he  drew  her  back  to  the  house  and  into  his 
own  room  and  shut  the  door. 

44  This  is  Saint-Lambert's  da3*,  and  he  who  deserts 
his  place,  loses  it,"  remarked  Benjamin  to  the  Pole. 

44  My  master  will  shut  your  mouth  for  3*011,"  answered 
Kouski,  departing  to  join  Max  who  established  himself 
at  the  hotel  de  la  Poste. 

On  the  morrow,  between  nine  and  eleven  o'clock,  all 
the  women  talked  to  each  other  from  door  to  door 
throughout  the  town.  The  story  of  the  wonderful  change 
in  the  Rouget  household  spread  everywhere.  The  up- 
shot of  the  conversations  was  the  same  on  all  sides,  — 

44  What  will  happen  at  the  banquet  between  Max  and 
Colonel  Bridau?" 

Philippe  said  but  two  words  to  the  Vedie,  — 44  Six 
hundred  francs'  annuit3*,  or  dismissal."  The3*  were 
enough,  however,  to  keep  her  neutral,  for  a  time,  be- 
tween the  two  great  powers,  Philippe  and  Flore. 


The  Two  Brothers.  821 

Knowing  Max's  life  to  be  in  danger,  Flore  became 
more  affectionate  to  Rouget  than  in  the  first  days  of 
their  alliance.  Alas !  in  love,  a  self-interested  devotion 
is  sometimes  more  agreeable  than  a  truthful  one ;  and 
that  is  wh}r  many  men  pay  so  much  for  clever  deceivers. 
The  Rabouilleuse  did  not  appear  till  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  she  came  down  to  breakfast  with  Rouget 
on  her  arm.  Tears  filled  her  eyes  as  she  beheld, 
sitting  in  Max's  place,  the  terrible  adversary,  with 
his  sombre  blue  eye,  and  the  cold,  sinister  expression 
on  his  face. 

44  What  is  the  matter,  mademoiselle?"  he  said,  after 
wishing  his  uncle  good-morning. 

44  She  can't  endure  the  idea  of  your  fighting  Maxence," 
said  old  Rouget. 

44 1  have  not  the  slightest  desire  to  kill  Gilet,"  an- 
swered Philippe.  44  He  need  only  take  himself  off  from 
Tssoudun  and  go  to  America  on  a  venture.  I  should 
be  the  first  to  advise  you  to  give  him  an  outfit,  and  to 
wish  him  a  safe  vo}Tage.  He  would  soon  make  a  for- 
tune there,  and  that  is  far  more  honorable  than  turning 
Issoudun  topsy-turv}'  at  night,  and  playing  the  devil  in 
\our  household." 

44  Well,  that's  fair  enough,"  said  Rouget,  glancing 
at  Flore. 

44  A-mer-i-ca  !  "  she  ejaculated,  sobbing. 

44  It  is  better  to  kick  his  legs  about  in  a  free  country 
than  have  them  rot  in  a  pine  box  in  France.  However, 
perhaps  you  think  he  is  a  good  shot,  and  can  kill  me ; 
it's  on  the  cards,"  observed  the  colonel. 

44  Will  you  let  me  speak  to  him?"  said  Flore,  implor- 
ing Philippe  in  a  humble  and  submissive  tone. 

44  Certainty ;  he  can  come  here  and  pack  up  his 
21 


322  The  Two  Brother*. 

things.  I  will  stay  with  my  uncle  during  that  time; 
for  I  shall  not  leave  the  old  man  again,"  replied 
Philippe. 

M  Vedie,"  cried  Flore,  "  run  to  the  hotel,  and  tell 
Monsieur  Gilet  that  I  beg  him  —  " 

"  — to  come  and  get  his  belongings,"  said  Philippe, 
interrupting  Flore's  message. 

"  Yes,  yes,  Vedie  ;  that  will  be  a  good  pretext  to  see 
me  ;  I  must  speak  to  him." 

Terror  controlled  her  hatred  ;  and  the  shock  which 
her  whole  being  experienced  when  she  first  encoun- 
tered this  strong  and  pitiless  nature  was  now  so  over- 
whelming that  she  bowed  before  Philippe  just  as 
Rouget  had  been  in  the  habit  of  bending  before  her. 
She  anxiously  awaited  Vedie's  return.  The  woman 
brought  a  formal  refusal  from  Max,  who  requested 
Mademoiselle  Brazier  to  send  his  things  to  the  hotel 
de  la  Poste. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  take  them  to  him?  "  she  said 
to  Jean-Jacques  Rouget. 

U  Yes,  but  will  }Tou  come  back?  "  said  the  old  man. 

"If  Mademoiselle  is  not  back  by  midday,  you  will 
give  me  a  power  of  attorney  to  attend  to  your  prop- 
erty," said  Philippe,  looking  at  Flore.  "Take  Vedie 
with  3'ou,  to  save  appearances,  mademoiselle.  In  future 
you  are  to  think  of  ray  uncle's  honor." 

Flore  could  get  nothing  out  of  Max.  Desperate  at 
having  allowed  himself,  before  the  e}Tes  of  the  whole 
town,  to  be  routed  out  of  his  shameless  position,  Gilet 
was  too  proud  to  run  away  from  Philippe.  The  Ra- 
bouilleuse  combated  this  objection,  and  proposed  that 
the}'  should  fly  together  to  America ;  but  Max,  who 
did  not  want  Flore  without  her  money,  and  yet  did  not 


The  Two  Brothers.  323 

wish  the  girl  to  see  to  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  insisted 
on  his  intention  of  killing  Philippe. 

"We  have  committed  a  monstrous  follj',"  he  said. 
4 'We  ought  all  three  to  have  gone  to  Paris  and  spent 
the  winter  there ;  but  how  could  one  guess,  from  the 
mere  sight  of  that  fellow's  big  carcass,  that  things 
would  turn  out  as  the^^  have?  The  turn  of  events  is 
enough  to  make  one  giddy !  I  took  the  colonel  for  one 
of  those  fire-eaters  who  have  n't  two  ideas  in  their 
head  ;  that  was  the  blunder  I  made.  As  I  did  n't  have 
the  sense  to  double  like  a  hare  in  the  beginning,  I  '11 
not  be  such  a  coward  as  to  back  down  before  him. 
He  has  lowered  me  in  the  estimation  of  this  town,  and 
I  cannot  get  back  what  I  have  lost  unless  I  kill  him." 

"  Go  to  America  with  forty  thousand  francs.  I'll 
find  a  way  to  get  rid  of  that  scoundrel,  and  join  you. 
It  would  be  much  wiser." 

"What  would  people  say  of  me?"  he  exclaimed. 
"  No  ;  Ixhave  buried  nine  already.  The  fellow  does  n't 
seem  as  if  he  knew  much ;  he  went  from  school  to  the 
army,  and  there  he  was  always  fighting  till  1815  ;  then 
he  went  to  America,  and  I  doubt  if  the  brute  ever  set 
foot  in  a  fencing-alley  ;  while  I  have  no  match  with  the 
sabre.  The  sabre  is  his  arm  ;  I  shall  seem  veiy  gener- 
ous in  offering  it  to  him,  — for  I  mean,  if  possible,  to  let 
him  insult  me,  —  and  I  can  easily  run  him  through. 
Unquestionably,  it  is  nry  wisest  course.  Don't  be  un- 
easy ;  we  shall  be  masters  of  the  field  in  a  couple  of 
days." 

Thus  it  was  that  a  stupid  point  of  honor  had  more 
influence  over  Max  than  sound  policy.  When  Flore 
got  home  she  shut  herself  up  to  cry  at  ease.  During 
the  whole  of  that  da}v  gossip  ran  wild  in  Issoudun,  and 


324  The  Two  Brother*. 

the  duel  between  Philippe  and  Maxence  was  considered 
inevitable. 

"Ah!  Monsieur  Hochon,"  said  Mignonnet,  who, 
accompanied  by  Carpentier,  met  the  old  man  on  the 
boulevard  Baron,  "we  are  very  uneasy;  for  Gilet  is 
clever  with  all  weapons." 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  old  provincial  diplomatist ; 
M  Philippe  has  managed  this  thing  well  from  the  begin- 
ning. I  never  should  have  thought  that  big,  easy-going 
fellow  would  have  succeeded  as  he  has.  The  two  have 
rolled  together  like  a  couple  of  thunder-clouds." 

"Oh!"  said  Carpentier,  "Philippe  is  a  remarkable 
man.  His  conduct  before  the  Court  of  Peers  was  a 
masterpiece  of  diplomacy." 

"Well,  Captain  Renard,"  said  one  of  the  townsfolk 
to  Max's  friend.  "  They  say  wolves  don't  devour  each 
other,  but  it  seems  that  Max  is  going  to  set  his  teeth 
in  Colonel  Bridau.  That's  pretty  serious  among  you 
gentlemen  of  the  Old  Guard." 

"You  make  fun  of  it,  do  you?  Because  the  poor 
fellow  amused  himself  a  little  at  night,  you  are  all 
against  him,"  said  Potel.  "But  Gilet  is  a  man  who 
couldn't  sta}T  in  a  hole  like  Issoudun  without  finding 
something  to  do." 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  remarked  another,  "Max  and 
the  colonel  must  pla}r  out  their  game.  Bridau  had 
to  avenge  his  brother.  Don't  you  remember  Max's 
treachery  to  the  poor  lad  ?  " 

"  Bah  !  nothing  but  an  artist,"  said  Renard. 

"But  the  real  question  is  about  the  old  man's  prop- 
ert}',"  said  a  third.  "  The}T  say  Monsieur  Gilet  was 
laj'ing  hands  on  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year,  when  the 
colonel  turned  him  out  of  his  uncle's  house." 


The  Two  Brothers.  325 

"  Gilet  rob  a  man!  Come,  don't  say  that  to  any 
one  but  me,  Monsieur  Canivet,"  cried  Potel.  "If  you 
do,  I  '11  make  you  swallow  3'our  tongue,  —  and  without 
any  sauce." 

Every  household  in  town  offered  prayers  for  the 
honorable  Colonel  Bridau. 


326  The  Two  Brothers. 


XVI. 

Towards  four  o'clock  of  the  following  day,  the  officers 
of  the  old  arm}-  who  were  at  Issoudun  or  its  environs, 
were  sauntering  about  the  place  du  Marche,  in  front  of 
an  eating-house  kept  by  a  man  named  Lacroix,  and 
waiting  the  arrival  of  Colonel  Philippe  Bridau.  The 
banquet  in  honor  of  the  coronation  was  to  take  place 
with  military  punctualit}'  at  five  o'clock.  Various  groups 
of  persons  were  talkiug  of  Max's  discomfiture,  and  his 
dismissal  from  old  Rouget's  house ;  for  not  only  were 
the  officers  to  dine  at  Lacroix's,  but  the  common  sol- 
diers had  determined  on  a  meeting  at  a  neighboring 
wine-shop.  Among  the  officers,  Potel  and  Renard  were 
the  only  ones  who  attempted  to  defend  Max. 

"  Is  it  any  of  our  business  what  takes  place  among 
the  old  man's  heirs  ?  "  said  Renard. 

ki  Max  is  weak  with  women,"  remarked  the  c}*nical 
Potel. 

"There'll  be  sabres  unsheathed  before  long,"  said 
an  old  sub-lieutenant,  who  cultivated  a  kitchen-garden 
in  the  upper  Baltan.  "  If  Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet 
committed  the  folly  of  going  to  live  under  old  Rouget's 
roof,  he  would  be  a  coward  if  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
turned  off  like  a  valet  without  asking  why." 

fci0f  course,"  said  Mignonnet  dryly.  'k  A  folly  that 
doesn't  succeed  becomes  a  crime." 

At  this  moment  Max  joined  the  old  soldiers  of  Napo- 
leon, and  was  received  in  significant  silence.     Potel  and 


The  Two  Brothers.  327 

Renard  each  took  an  arm  of  their  friend,  and  walked 
about  with  him,  conversing.  Presently  Philippe  was 
seen  approaching  in  full  dress  ;  he  trailed  his  cane  after 
him  with  an  imperturbable  air  which  contrasted  with 
the  forced  attention  Max  was  paying  to  the  remarks 
of  his  two  supporters.  Bridau's  hand  was  grasped  by 
Mignonnet,  Carpentier,  and  several  others.  This  wel- 
come, so  different  from  that  accorded  to  Max,  dispelled 
the  last  feeling  of  cowardice,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  wisdom, 
which  Flore's  entreaties,  and  above  all,  her  tenderness, 
had  awakened  in  the  latter's  mind. 

M  We  shall  fight,"  he  said  to  Renard,  "  and  to  the 
death.  Therefore  don't  talk  to  me  any  more ;  let  me 
play  my  part  well." 

After  these  words,  spoken  in  a  feverish  tone,  the 
three  Bonapartists  returned  to  the  group  of  officers  and 
mixed  among  them.  Max  bowed  first  to  Bridau,  who 
returned  his  bow,  and  the  two  exchanged  a  frigid 
glance. 

fc'  Come,  gentlemen,  let  us  take  our  seats,"  said 
Potel. 

"  And  drink  to  the  health  of  the  Little  Corporal, 
who  is  now  in  the  paradise  of  heroes,"  cried  Renard. 

The  company  poured  into  the  long,  low  dining-hall 
of  the  restaurant  Lacroix,  the  windows  of  which  opened 
on  the  market-place.  Each  guest  took  his  seat  at  the 
table,  where,  in  compliance  with  Philippe's  request,  the 
two  adversaries  were  placed  directly  opposite  to  each 
other.  Some  young  men  of  the  town,  among  them 
several  Knights  of  Idleness,  anxious  to  know  what 
might  happen  at  the  banquet,  were  walking  about 
the  street  and  discussing  the  critical  position  into 
which  Philippe  had  contrived  to  force  Max.     They  all 


328  The  Two  Brothers. 

deplored  the  crisis,  though  each  considered  the  duel  to 
be  inevitable. 

Everything  went  off  well  until  the  dessert,  though 
the  two  antagonists  betrayed,  in  spite  of  the  apparent 
jovialit}T  of  the  dinner,  a  certain  vigilance  that  resem- 
bled disquietude.  While  waiting  for  the  quarrel  that 
both  were  planning,  Philippe  showed  admirable  cool- 
ness, and  Max  a  distracting  gayet}T ;  but  to  an  ob- 
server, each  was  playing  a  part. 

When  the  dessert  was  served  Philippe  rose  and  said : 
"Fill  your  glasses,  my  friends !  I  ask  permission  to 
propose  the  first  toast." 

"He  said  my  friends,  don't  fill  }rour  glass,"  whis- 
pered Renard  to  Max. 

Max  poured  out  some  wine. 

"  To  the  Grand  Army !  "  cried  Philippe,  with  genu- 
ine enthusiasm. 

"To  the  Grand  Army!"  was  repeated  with  accla- 
mation by  every  voice. 

At  this  moment  eleven  private  soldiers,  among  whom 
were  Benjamin  and  Kouski,  appeared  at  the  door  of 
the  room  and  repeated  the  toast,  — 

"  To  the  Grand  Army  !  " 

"Come  in,  my  sons;  we  are  going  to  drink  His 
health." 

The  old  soldiers  came  in  and  stood  behind  the 
officers. 

"  You  see  He  is  not  dead !  "  said  Kouski  to  an  old 
sergeant,  who  had  perhaps  been  grieving  that  the 
Emperor's  agony  was  over. 

"  I  claim  the  second  toast,"  said  Mignonnet,  as  he 
rose.  "  Let  us  drink  to  those  who  attempted  to  re- 
store His  son !  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  329 

Every  one  present,  except  Maxence  Gilet,  bowed  to 
Philippe  Bridau,  and  stretched  their  glasses  towards  him. 

44  One  word,"  said  Max,  rising. 

"It  is  Max  !  it  is  Max  !  "  cried  voices  outside  ;  and 
then  a  deep  silence  reigned  in  the  room  and  in  the 
street,  for  Gilet's  known  character  made  every  one 
expect  a  taunt. 

4k  May  we  all  meet  again  at  this  time  next  year," 
said  Max,  bowing  ironically  to  Philippe. 

44  It 's  coming !  "  whispered  Kouski  to  his  neighbor. 

"  The  Paris  police  would  never  allow  a  banquet  of 
this  kind,"  said  Potel  to  Philippe. 

4  ■  Why  the  devil  do  you  mention  the  police  to  Colonel 
Bridau  ?  "  said  Maxence  insolently. 

"  Captain  Potel  —  he  —  meant  no  insult,"  said 
Philippe,  smiling  coldly.  The  stillness  was  so  pro- 
found that  the  buzzing  of  a  fly  could  have  been  heard 
if  there  had  been  one. 

M  The  police  were  sufficiently  afraid  of  me,"  resumed 
Philippe,  44  to  send  me  to  Issoudun,  —  a  place  where 
I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  old  comrades,  but 
where,  it  must  be  owned,  there  is  a  dearth  of  amuse- 
ment. For  a  man  who  does  n't  despise  folly,  I  'm 
rather  restricted.  However,  it  is  certainly  economical, 
for  I  am  not  one  of  those  to  whom  feather-beds 
give  incomes ;  Mariette  of  the  Grand  Opera  cost  me 
fabulous  sums." 

44  Is  that  remark  meant  for  me,  mj'Tdear  colonel?" 
asked  Max,  sending  a  glance  at  Philippe  which  was 
like  a  current  of  electricit}\ 

44  Take  it  as  you  please,"  answered  Bridau. 

44  Colonel,  my  two  friends  here,  Renard  and  Potel, 
will  call  to-morrow  on  —  " 


330  The  Two  Brothers. 

" — on  Mignonnet  and  Carpentier,"  answered  Phil- 
ippe, cutting  short  Max's  sentence,  and  motioning 
towards  his  two  neighbors. 

"  Now,"  said  Max,  "  let  us  go  on  with  the  toasts." 

The  two  adversaries  had  not  raised  their  voices 
above  the  tone  of  ordinary  conversation  ;  there  was 
nothing  solemn  in  the  affair  except  the  dead  silence  in 
which  it  took  place. 

M  Look  here,  you  others  !  "  cried  Philippe,  addressing 
the  soldiers  who  stood  behind  the  officers;  "remem- 
ber that  our  affairs  don't  concern  the  bourgeoisie  —  not 
a  word,  therefore,  on  what  goes  on  here.  It  is  for  the 
Old  Guard  only." 

"  They'll  obey  orders,  colonel,"  said  Renard.  "I'll 
answer  for  them." 

"Long  live  His  little  one!  May  he  reign  over 
France  !  "  cried  Potel. 

"  Death  to  Englishmen  !  "  cried  Carpentier. 

That  toast  was  received  with  prodigious  applause. 

"  Shame  on  Hudson  Lowe,"  said  Captain  Renard. 

The  dessert  passed  off  well ;  the  libations  were  plen- 
tiful. The  antagonists  and  their  four  seconds  made 
it  a  point  of  honor  that  a  duel,  involving  so  large  a 
fortune,  and  the  reputation  of  two  men  noted  for  their 
courage,  should  not  appear  the  result  of  an  ordinary 
squabble.  No  two  gentlemen  could  have  behaved 
better  than  Philippe  and  Max ;  in  this  respect  the 
anxious  waiting  of  the  young  men  and  townspeople 
grouped  about  the  market-place  was  balked.  All  the 
guests,  like  true  soldiers,  kept  silence  as  to  the  epi- 
sode which  took  place  at  dessert.  At  ten  o'clock  that 
night  the  two  adversaries  were  informed  that  the  sabre 
was   the   weapon  agreed   upon    by   the   seconds ;    the 


I 


The  Two  Brothers.  331 

place  chosen  for  the  rendezvous  was  behind  the  chancel 
of  the  church  of  the  Capuchins  at  eight  o'clock  the 
next  morning.  Goddet,  who  was  at  the  banquet  in 
his  quality  of  former  army  surgeon,  was  requested  to 
be  present  at  the  meeting.  The  seconds  agreed  that, 
no  matter  what  might  happen,  the  combat  should  last 
only  ten  minutes. 

At  eleven  o'clock  that  night,  to  Colonel  Bridau's 
amazement,  Monsieur  Hochon  appeared  at  his  rooms 
just  as  he  was  going  to  bed,  escorting  Madame 
Hochon. 

M  We  know  what  has  happened,"  said  the  old  lady, 
with  her  eyes  full  of  tears,  "  and  I  have  come  to  en- 
treat you  not  to  leave  the  house  to-morrow  morning 
without  saying  your  prayers.  Lift  your  soul  to 
God ! " 

"  Yes,  madame,"  said  Philippe,  to  whom  old  Hochon 
made  a  sign  from  behind  his  wife's  back. 

"  That  is  not  all,"  said  Agathe's  godmother.  "  I 
stand  in  the  place  of  your  poor  mother,  and  I  divest 
myself,  for  jtou,  of  a  thing  which  I  hold  most  precious, 
—  here,"  she  went  on,  holding  towards  Philippe  a 
tooth,  fastened  upon  a  piece  of  black  velvet  embroid- 
ered in  gold,  to  which  she  had  sewn  a  pair  of  green 
strings.  Having  shown  it  to  him,  she  replaced  it  in  a 
little  bag.  "  It  is  a  relic  of  Sainte  Solange,  the  patron 
saint  of  Berry,"  she  said.  "  I  saved  it  during  the 
Revolution  ;  wear  it  on  your  breast  to-morrow." 

"Will  it  protect  me  from  a  sabre-thrust?"  asked 
Philippe. 

u  Yes,"  replied  the  old  ladjr. 

"Then  I  have  no  right  to  wear  that  accoutrement 
anv  more  than  if  it  were  a  cuirass,"  cried  Agathe's  son. 


332  The  Two  Brothers. 

i 'What  does  he  mean?"  said  Madame  Hochon. 

"  He  says  it  is  not  playing  fair,"  answered  Hochon. 

"  Then  we  will  say  no  more  about  it,"  said  the  old 
lady,  M  I  shall  pray  for  3-011." 

"Well,  madame,  prayer  —  and  a  good  point  —  can 
do  no  harm,"  said  Philippe,  making  a  thrust  as  if  to 
pierce  Monsieur  Hochon's  heart. 

The  old  lady  kissed  the  colonel  on  his  forehead.  As 
she  left  the  house,  she  gave  thirty  francs  —  all  the 
mone}'  she  possessed  —  to  Benjamin,  requesting  him  to 
sew  the  relic  into  the  pocket  of  his  master's  trousers. 
Benjamin  did  so,  —  not  that  he  believed  in  the  virtue  of 
the  tooth,  for  he  said  his  master  had  a  much  better 
talisman  than  that  against  Gilet,  but  because  his  con- 
science constrained  him  to  fulfil  a  commission  for  which 
he  had  been  so  liberally  paid.  Madame  Hochon  went 
home  full  of  confidence  in  Sainte  Solange.   • 

At  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning,  December  third, 
the  weather  being  cloudy,  Max,  accompanied  by  his  sec- 
onds and  the  Pole,  arrived  on  the  little  meadow  which 
then  surrounded  the  apse  of  the  church  of  the  Capuchins. 
There  he  found  Philippe  and  his  seconds,  with  Benjamin, 
waiting  for  him.  Potel  and  Mignonnet  paced  off 
twenty-four  feet ;  at  each  extremity,  the  two  attend- 
ants drew  a  line  on  the  earth  with  a  spade :  the 
combatants  were  not  allowed  to  retreat  beyond  that 
line,  on  pain  of  being  thought  cowardly.  Each  was  to 
stand  at  his  own  line,  and  advance  as  he  pleased  when 
the  seconds  gave  the  word. 

44  Do  we  take  off  our  coats?"  said  Philippe  to  his 
adversaiy  coldly. 

"  Of  course,"  answered  Maxence,  with  the  assump- 
tion of  a  bully. 


The  Two  Brothers.  333 

They  did  so ;  the  rosy  tints  of  their  skin  appear- 
ing through  the  cambric  of  their  shirts.  Each,  armed 
with  a  cavalry  sabre  selected  of  equal  weight,  about 
three  pounds,  and  equal  length,  three  feet,  placed  him- 
self at  his  own  line,  the  point  of  his  weapon  on  the 
ground,  awaiting  the  signal.  Both  were  so  calm  that, 
in  spite  of  the  cold,  their  muscles  quivered  no  more 
than  if  they  had  been  made  of  iron.  Goddet,  the  four 
seconds,  and  the  two  soldiers  felt  an  involuntary 
admiration. 

"They  are  a  proud  pair !  " 

The  exclamation  came  from  Potel. 

Just  as  the  signal  was  given,  Max  caught  sight  of 
Fario's  sinister  face  looking  at  them  through  the  hole 
which  the  Knights  of  Idleness  had  made  for  the  pigeons 
in  the  roof  of  the  church.  Those  eyes,  which  sent 
forth  streams  of  fire,  hatred,  and  revenge,  dazzled  Max 
for  a  moment.  The  colonel  went  straight  to  his  adver- 
sary, and  put  himself  on  guard  in  a  way  that  gained 
him  an  advantage.  Experts  in  the  art  of  killing,  know 
that,  of  two  antagonists,  the  ablest  takes  the  "inside  of 
the  pavement,"  —  to  use  an  expression  which  gives  the 
reader  a  tangible  idea  of  the  effect  of  a  good  guard. 
That  pose,  which  is  in  some  degree  observant,  marks 
so  plainly  a  duellist  of  the  first  rank  that  a  feeling  of 
inferiority  came  into  Max's  soul,  and  produced  the 
same  disarray  of  powers  which  demoralizes  a  gambler 
when,  in  presence  of  a  master  or  a  lucky  hand,  he  loses 
his  self-possession  and  plays  less  well  than  usual. 

M  Ah  !  the  lascar  !  "  thought  Max,  M  he  's  an  expert ; 
I'm  lost!" 

He  attempted  a  mouHnet,  and  twirled  his  sabre  with 
the  dexterity  of  a  single-stick.     He  wanted  to  bewilder 


334  The  Two  Brothers. 

Philippe,  and  strike  his  weapon  so  as  to  disarm  him  ; 
but  at  the  first  encounter  he  felt  that  the  colonel's  wrist 
was  iron,  with  the  flexibility  of  a  steel  spring.  Maxence 
was  then  forced,  unfortunate  fellow,  to  think  of  another 
move,  while  Philippe,  whose  e3res  were  darting  gleams 
that  were  sharper  than  the  flash  of  their  blades,  parried 
every  attack  with  the  coolness  of  a  fencing-master  wear- 
ing his  plastron  in  an  armory. 

Between  two  men  of  the  calibre  of  these  combat- 
ants, there  occurs  a  phenomenon  very  like  that  which 
takes  place  among  the  lower  classes,  during  the  ter- 
rible tussle  called  the  savate,  which  is  fought  with  the 
feet,  as  the  name  implies.  Victory  depends  on  a  false 
movement,  on  some  error  of  the  calculation,  rapid  as 
lightning,  which  must  be  made  and  followed  almost 
instinctively.  During  a  period  of  time  as  short  to  the 
spectators  as  it  seems  long  to  the  combatants,  the  con- 
test lies  in  observation,  so  keen  as  to  absorb  the  powers 
of  mind  and  body,  and  yet  concealed  by  preparatoiy 
feints  whose  slowness  and  apparent  prudence  seem  to 
show  that  the  antagonists  are  not  intending  to  fight. 
This  moment,  which  is  followed  by  a  rapid  and  decisive 
struggle,  is  terrible  to  a  connoisseur.  At  a  bad  parry 
from  Max  the  colonel  sent  the  sabre  spinning  from  his 
hand. 

"  Pick  it  up,  "  he  said,  pausing  ;  "lam  not  the  man 
to  kill  a  disarmed  enemy." 

There  was  something  atrocious  in  the  grandeur  of 
these  words  ;  they  seemed  to  show  such  consciousness 
of  superiority  that  the  onlookers  took  them  for  a  shrewd 
calculation.  In  fact,  when  Max  replaced  himself  in 
position,  he  had  lost  his  coolness,  and  was  once  more 
confronted   with   his   adversary's   raised   guard   which 


The  Two  Brothers.  335 

defended  the  colonel's  whole  person  while  it  menaced 
his.  He  resolved  to  redeem  his  shameful  defeat  by  a 
bold  stroke.  He  no  longer  guarded  himself,  but  took 
his  sabre  in  both  hands  and  rushed  furiously  on  his 
antagonist,  resolved  to  kill  him,  if  he  had  to  lose  his 
own  life.  Philippe  received  a  sabre-cut  which  slashed 
open  his  forehead  and  a  part  of  his  face,  but  he  cleft 
Max's  head  obliquely  by  the  terrible  sweep  of  a  mou- 
linet,  made  to  break  the  force  of  the  annihilating  stroke 
Max  aimed  at  him.  These  two  savage  blows  ended 
the  combat,  at  the  ninth  minute.  Fario  came  down  to 
gloat  over  the  sight  of  his  enemy  in  the  convulsions  of 
death ;  for  the  muscles  of  a  man  of  Maxence  Gilet's 
vigor  quiver  horribly.  Philippe  was  carried  back  to 
his  uncle's  house. 

Thus  perished  a  man  destined  to  do  great  deeds  had 
he  lived  his  life  amid  environments  which  were  suited 
to  him ;  a  man  treated  by  Nature  as  a  favorite  child, 
for  she  gave  him  courage,  self-possession,  and  the 
political  sagacity  of  a  Caesar  Borgia.  But  education 
had  not  bestowed  upon  him  that  nobility  of  conduct 
and  ideas  without  which  nothing  great  is  possible  in 
ain'  walk  of  life.  He  was  not  regretted,  because  of  the 
perfidy  with  which  his  adversary,  who  was  a  worse  man 
than  he,  had  contrived  to  bring  him  into  disrepute.  His 
death  put  an  end  to  the  exploits  of  the  Order  of  Idle- 
ness, to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  town  of  Issoudun. 
Philippe,  therefore,  had  nothing  to  fear  in  consequence 
of  the  duel,  which  seemed  almost  the  result  of  divine 
vengeance :  its  circumstances  were  related  throughout 
that  whole  region  of  countiy,  with  unanimous  praise 
for  the  braver}*  of  the  two  combatants. 

"  But    the}*    had    better    both    have    been    killed," 


336  The  Two  Brothers. 

remarked  Monsieur  Mouilleron  ;  "  it  would  have  been  a 
good  riddance  for  the  Government." 

The  situation  of  Flore  Brazier  would  have  been  very 
embarrassing  were  it  not  for  the  condition  into  which 
she  was  thrown  b}'  Max's  death.  A  brain-fever  set  in, 
combined  with  a  dangerous  inflammation  resulting  from 
her  escapade  to  Vatan.  If  she  had  had  her  usual  health, 
she  might  have  fled  the  house  where,  in  the  room  above 
her,  Max's  room,  and  in  Max's  bed,  lay  and  suffered 
Max's  murderer.  She  hovered  between  life  and  death 
for  three  months,  attended  by  Monsieur  Goddet,  who 
was  also  attending  Philippe. 

As  soon  as  Philippe  was  able  to  hold  a  pen,  he  wrote 
the  following  letters  :  — 

To  Monsieur  Dkskoches: 

I  have  already  killed  the  most  venomous  of  the  two  rep- 
tiles; not  however  without  getting  my  own  head  split  open 
by  a  sabre;  but  the  rascal  struck  with  a  dying  hand.  'I  lie 
other  viper  is  here,  and  I  must  come  to  an  understanding  with 
her,  for  my  uncle  clings  to  her  like  the  apple  of  his  eye.  I 
have  been  half  afraid  the  girl,  who  is  devilishly  handsome, 
might  run  away,  and  then  my  uncle  would  have  followed  her ; 
but  an  illness  which  seized  her  suddenly  has  kept  her  in  bed. 
If  God  desired  to  protect  me,  he  would  call  her  soul  to  him- 
self, now,  while  she  is  repenting  of  her  sins.  Meantime,  on 
my  side  I  have,  thanks  to  that  old  trump,  Hochon,  the  doc- 
tor of  Issoudun,  one  named  Goddet,  a  worthy  soul  who  con- 
ceives that  the  property  of  uncles  ought  to  go  to  nephews 
rather  than  to  sluts. 

Monsieur  Hochon  has  some  influence  on  a  certain  papa 
Fichet.  who  is  rich,  and  whose  daughter  Goddet  wants  as  a 
wife  for  his  son:  so  the  thousand  francs  they  have  promised 
him  if  he  mends  up  my  pate  is  not  the  chief  cause  of  his 
devotion.  Moreover,  this  Goddet,  who  was  formerly  head- 
surgeon  to  the  3rd  regiment  of  the  line,  has  been  privately 


The  Two  Brothers.  337 

advised  by  my  stanch  friends,  Mignonnet  and  Carpentier; 
so  he  is  now  playing  the  hypocrite  with  his  other  patient. 
He  says  to  Mademoiselle  Brazier,  as  he  feels  her  pulse,  "  You 
see,  my  child,  that  there 's  a  God  after  all.  You  have  been 
the  cause  of  a  great  misfortune,  and  you  must  now  repair  it. 
The  finger  of  God  is  in  all  this  [it  is  inconceivable  what 
they  don't  say  the  finger  of  God  is  in!].  Religion  is  re- 
ligion: submit,  resign  yourself,  and  that  will  quiet  you  better 
than  my  drugs.  Above  all,  resolve  to  stay  here  and  take  care 
of  your  master:  forget  and  forgive,  —  that's  Christianity." 

Goddet  has  promised  to  keep  the  Rabouilleuse  three 
months  in  her  bed.  By  degrees  the  girl  will  get  accustomed 
to  living  under  the  same  roof  with  me.  I  have  bought  over 
the  cook.  That  abominable  old  woman  tells  her  mistress 
Max  would  have  led  her  a  hard  life ;  and  declares  she  over- 
heard him  say  that  if,  after  the  old  man's  death,  he  was 
obliged  to  marry  Flore,  he  did  n't  mean  to  have  his  prospects 
ruined  by  it,  and  he  should  find  a  way  to  get  rid  of  her. 

Thus,  all  goes  well,  so  far.  My  uncle,  by  old  Hochon's 
advice,  has  destroyed  his  will. 

To  Monsieur  Giroudeau,  care  of  Mademoiselle  Florentine.  Rue 
de  Vendome,  Marais: 

My  dear  old  Fellow,  —  Find  out  if  the  little  rat  Ce- 
sarine  has  any  engagement,  and  if  not,  try  to  arrange  that 
she  can  come  to  Issoudun  in  case  I  send  for  her ;  if  I  do,  she 
must  come  at  once.  It  is  a  matter  this  time  of  decent  behav- 
ior; no  theatre  morals.  She  must  present  herself  as  the 
daughter  of  a  brave  soldier,  killed  on  the  battle-field.  There- 
fore, mind,  — sober  manners,  schoolgirl's  clothes,  virtue  of  the 
best  quality;  that 's  the  watchword.  If  I  need  Cesarine, 
and  if  she  answers  my  purpose,  I  will  give  her  fifty  thousand 
francs  on  my  uncle's  death.  If  Cesarine  has  other  engage- 
ments, explain  what  I  want  to  Florentine  ;  and  between  you, 
find  me  some  ballet-girl  capable  of  playing  the  part. 

I  have  had  my  skull  cracked  in  a  duel  with  the  fellow  who 
was  filching  my  inheritance,  and  is  now  feeding  the  worms 

22 


338  The  Two  Brothers. 

I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it  some  day.  Ah !  old  fellow,  the  good 
times  are  coming  back  for  you  and  me;  we  '11  amuse  ourselves 
once  more,  or  we  are  not  the  pair  we  really  are.  If  you  can 
send  me  five  hundred  more  cartridges  I  '11  bite  them. 

Adieu,  my  old  fire-eater.  Light  your  pipe  with  this  let- 
ter. Mind,  the  daughter  of  the  officer  is  to  come  from  Cha- 
teauroux,  and  must  seem  to  be  in  need  of  assistance.  I  hope 
however  that  I  shall  not  be  driven  to  such  dangerous  expe- 
dients.    Remember  me  to  Mariette  and  all  our  friends. 

Agathe,  informed  by  Madame  Hochon  of  what  had 
happened,  rushed  to  Issoudun,  and  was  received  by 
her  brother,  who  gave  her  Philippe's  former  room.  The 
poor  mother's  tenderness  for  the  worthless  son  revived 
in  all  its  maternal  strength  ;  a  few  happy  da}--s  were  hers 
at  last,  as  she  listened  to  the  praises  which  the  whole 
town  bestowed  upon  her  hero. 

''After  all,  my  child,"  said  Madame  Hochon  on  the 
day  of  her  arrival,  "3'outh  must  have  its  fling.  The 
dissipations  of  a  soldier  under  the  Empire  must,  of  course, 
be  greater  than  those  of  young  men  who  are  looked  after 
their  fathers.  Oh  !  if  you  only  knew  what  went  on  here 
at  night  under  that  wretched  Max  !  Thanks  to  yoxxv 
son,  Issoudun  now  breathes  and  sleeps  in  peace.  Phi- 
lippe has  come  to  his  senses  rather  late ;  he  told  us 
frankly  that  three  months  in  the  Luxembourg  sobered 
him.  Monsieur  Hochon  is  delighted  with  his  conduct 
here  ;  every  one  thinks  highly  of  it.  If  he  can  be  kept 
a,wa}T  from  the  temptations  of  Paris,  he  will  end  by 
being  a  comfort  to  you." 

Hearing  these  consolatory  words  Agathe's  eyes  filled 
with  tears. 

Philippe  played  the  saint  to  his  mother,  for  he  had 
need  of  her.     That  wity  politician  did  not  wish  to  have 


The  Two  Brothers.  339 

recourse  to  Cesarine  unless  he  continued  to  be  an  object 
of  horror  to  Mademoiselle  Brazier.  He  saw  that  Flore 
had  been  thoroughly  broken  to  harness  by  Max ;  he 
knew  she  was  an  essential  part  of  his  uncle's  life,  and 
he  greatly  preferred  to  use  her  rather  than  send  for  the 
ballet-girl,  who  might  take  it  into  her  head  to  marry  the 
old  man.  Fouche  advised  Louis  XVIII.  to  sleep  in 
Napoleon's  sheets  instead  of  granting  the  charter ;  and 
Philippe  would  have  liked  to  remain  in  Gilet's  sheets ; 
but  he  was  reluctant  to  risk  the  good  reputation  he  had 
made  for  himself  in  Berry.  To  take  Max's  place  with 
the  Rabouilleuse  would  be  as  odious  on  his  part  as  on 
hers.  He  could,  without  discredit  and  by  the  laws  of 
nepotism,  live  in  his  uncle's  house  and  at  his  uncle's 
expense ;  but  he  could  not  have  Flore  unless  her  char- 
acter were  whitewashed.  Hampered  by  this  difficulty, 
and  stimulated  by  the  hope  of  finally  getting  hold  of 
the  propert3r,  the  idea  came  into  his  head  of  making 
his  uncle  marry  the  Rabouilleuse.  With  this  in  view 
he  requested  his  mother  to  go  and  see  the  girl  and  treat 
her  in  a  sisterl}'  manner. 

"I  must  confess,  my  dear  mother,"  he  said,  in  a 
canting  tone,  looking  at  Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon 
who  accompanied  her,  "  that  nry  uncle's  way  of  life 
is  not  becoming ;  he  could,  however,  make  Mademoi- 
selle Brazier  respected  by  the  community  if  he  chose. 
Would  n't  it  be  far  better  for  her  to  be  Madame  Rou- 
get  than  the  servant-mistress  of  an  old  bachelor?  She 
had  better  obtain  a  definite  right  to  his  property  by  a 
marriage  contract  than  threaten  a  whole  family  with 
disinheritance.  If  3*011,  or  Monsieur  Hochon,  or  some 
good  priest  would  speak  of  the  matter  to  both  parties, 
you   might   put   a   stop  to   a    scandal   which    offends 


340  The  Two  Brothers. 

decent  people.  Mademoiselle  Brazier  would  be  only 
too  happ}^  if  you  were  to  welcome  her  as  a  sister,  and 
I  as  an  aunt." 

On  the  morrow  Agathe  and  Madame  Hochon  ap- 
peared at  Flore's  bedside,  and  repeated  to  the  sick 
girl  and  to  Ronget,  the  excellent  sentiments  expressed 
by  Philippe.  Throughout  Issoudun  the  colonel  was 
talked  of  as  a  man  of  noble  character,  especially 
because  of  his  conduct  towards  Flore.  For  a  month, 
the  Rabouilleuse  heard  Goddet,  her  doctor,  the  in- 
dividual who  has  paramount  influence  over  a  sick 
person,  the  respectable  Madame  Hochon,  moved  by 
religious  principle,  and  Agathe,  so  gentle  and  pious, 
all  representing  to  her  the  advantages  of  a  marriage 
with  Rouget.  And  when,  attracted  by  the  idea  of  be- 
coming Madame  Rouget,  a  dignified  and  virtuous  bour- 
geoise,  she  grew  eager  to  recover,  so  that  the  marriage 
might  speedily  be  celebrated,  it  was  not  difficult  to 
make  her  understand  she  would  not  be  allowed  to 
enter  the  family  of  the  Rougets  if  she  intended  to  turn 
Philippe  from  its  doors. 

"Besides,"  remarked  the  doctor,  "you  really  owe 
him  this  good  fortune.  Max  would  never  have  allowed 
3'ou  to  marry  old  Rouget.  And,"  he  added  in  her  ear, 
"if  }Tou  have  children,  you  will  revenge  Max,  for  that 
will  disinherit  the  Bridaus." 

Two  months  after  the  fatal  duel  in  February,  1823, 
the  sick  woman,  urged  by  those  about  her,  and  im- 
plored by  Rouget,  consented  to  receive  Philippe,  the 
sight  of  whose  scars  made  her  weep,  but  whose  soft- 
ened and  almost  affectionate  manner  calmed  her.  By 
Philippe's  wish  they  were  left  alone  together. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  soldier.     "  It  is  I,  who, 


The  Two  Brothers.  341 

from  the  start,  have  advised  your  marriage  with  my 
uncle ;  if  you  consent,  it  will  take  place  as  soon  as 
you  are  quite  recovered." 

"  So  they  tell  me,"  she  replied. 

"Circumstances  have  compelled  me  to  give  you  pain, 
it  is  natural  therefore  that  I  should  wish  to  do  you  all 
the  good  I  can.  Wealth,  respect,  and  a  fatuity  posi- 
tion are  worth  more  than  what  you  have  lost.  You 
would  n't  have  been  that  fellow's  wife  long  after  my 
uncle's  death,  for  I  happen  to  know,  through  friends  of 
his,  that  he  intended  to  get  rid  of  you.  Come,  my 
dear,  let  us  understand  each  other,  and  live  happily. 
You  shall  be  my  aunt,  and  nothing  more  than  my  aunt. 
You  will  take  care  that  my  uncle  does  not  forget  me  in 
his  will ;  on  U13-  side,  you  shall  see  how  well  I  will 
have  you  treated  in  the  marriage  contract.  Keep  calm, 
think  it  over,  and  we  will  talk  of  it  later.  All  sensible 
people,  indeed  the  whole  town,  urge  you  to  put  an  end 
to  your  illegal  position  ;  no  one  will  blame  you  for 
receiving  me.  It  is  well  understood  in  the  world  that 
interests  go  before  feelings.  B3' the  da}' of  your  mar- 
riage you  will  be  handsomer  than  ever.  The  pallor  of 
illness  has  given  you  an  air  of  distinction,  and  on  my 
honor,  if  my  uncle  did  not  love  you  so  madly,  }*ou 
should  be  the  wife  of  Colonel  Bridau." 

Philippe  left  the  room,  having  dropped  this  hint  into 
Flore's  mind  to  waken  a  vague  idea  of  vengeance 
which  might  please  the  girl,  who  did,  in  fact,  feel  a  sort 
of  happiness  as  she  saw  this  dreadful  being  at  her  feet. 
In  this  scene  Philippe  repeated,  in  miniature,  that  of 
Richard  III.  with  the  queen  he  had  widowed.  The 
meaning  of  it  is  that  personal  calculation,  hidden  under 
sentiment,  has  a  powerful  influence  on  the  heart,  and 


842  The  Two  Brothers. 

is  able  to  dissipate  even  genuine  grief.  This  is  how, 
in  individual  life,  Nature  does  that  which  in  works  of 
genius  is  thought  to  be  consummate  art :  she  works  by 
self-interest,  —  the  genius  of  money. 

At  the  beginning  of  April,  1823,  the  hall  of  Jean- 
Jacques  Rouget's  house  was  the  scene  of  a  splendid 
dinner,  given  to  celebrate  the  signing  of  the  marriage 
contract  between  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier  and 
the  old  bachelor.  The  guests  were  Monsieur  Heron, 
the  four  witnesses,  Messieurs  Mignonnet,  Carpentier, 
Hochon  and  Goddet,  the  ma}Tor  and  the  curate, 
Agathe  Bridau,  Madame  Hochon,  and  her  friend  Ma- 
dame Borniche,  two  old  ladies  who  laid  down  the  law 
to  the  societ}'  of  Issoudun.  The  bride  was  much  im- 
pressed by  this  concession,  obtained  by  Philippe,  and 
intended  by  the  two  ladies  as  a  mark  of  protection  to 
a  repentant  woman.  Flore  was  in  dazzling  beaut}-. 
The  curate,  who  for  the  last  fortnight  had  been  in- 
structing the  ignorant  crab-girl,  was  to  allow  her,  on 
the  following  da}-,  to  make  her  first  communion.  The 
marriage  was  the  text  of  the  following  pious  article  in 
the  "  Journal  du  Cher,"  published  at  Bourges,  and  in 
the  M  Journal  de  l'Indre,"  published  at  Chateauroux  : 

Issoudun.  —  The  revival  of  religion  is  progressing  in 
Berry.  Friends  of  the  Church  and  all  respectable  persons 
in  this  town  were  yesterday  witnesses  of  a  marriage  cere- 
mony by  which  a  leading  man  of  property  put  an  end  to  a 
scandalous  connection,  which  began  at  the  time  when  the 
authority  of  religion  was  overthrown  in  this  region.  This 
event,  due  to  the  enlightened  zeal  of  the  clergy  of  Issoudun 
will,  we  trust,  have  imitators,  and  put  a  stop  to  marriages, 
so-called,  which  have  never  been  solemnized,  and  were  only 
contracted  during  the  disastrous  epoch  of  revolutionary  rule. 


The  Two  Brothers.  343 

One  remarkable  feature  of  the  event  to  which  we  allude,  is 
the  fact  that  it  was  brought  about  at  the  entreaty  of  a  colonel 
belonging  to  the  old  army,  sent  to  our  town  by  a  sentence  of 
the  Court  of  Peers,  who  may,  in  consequence,  lose  the  inheri- 
tnce  of  his  uncle's  property.  Such  disinterestedness  is  so 
rare  in  these  days  that  it  deserves  public  mention. 

By  the  marriage  contract  Rouget  secured  to  Flore  a 
dower  of  one  hundred  thousand  francs,  and  a  life  an- 
il u it}*  of  thirty  thousand  more. 

After  the  wedding,  which  was  sumptuous,  Agathe 
returned  to  Paris  the  happiest  of  mothers,  and  told 
Joseph  and  Desroches  what  she  called  the  good  news. 

"Your  son  Philippe  is  too  wily  a  man  not  to  keep 
his  paw  on  that  inheritance,"  said  the  lawyer,  when  he 
had  heard  Madame  Bridau  to  the  end.  "You  and  your 
poor  Joseph  will  never  get  one  penny  of  your  brother's 
property." 

-  M  You,  and  Joseph  too,  will  always  be  unjust  to  that 
poor  boy,"  said  the  mother.  "  His  conduct  before  the 
Court  of  Peers  was  worthy  of  a  statesman ;  he  suc- 
ceeded in  saving  many  heads.  Philippe's  errors  came 
from  his  great  faculties  being  unemployed.  He  now 
sees  how  faults  of  conduct  injure  the  prospects  of  a  man 
who  has  his  wa}'  to  make.  He  is  ambitious  ;  that  I  am 
sure  of;  and  I  am  not  the  only  one  to  predict  his  fu- 
ture%  Monsieur  Hochon  firmly  believes  that  Philippe 
has  a  noble  destiny  before  him." 

'  »  Oh  !  if  he  chooses  to  apply  his  perverted  powers  to 
making  his  fortune,  I  have  no  doubt  he  will  succeed  :  lie 
is  capable  of  everything ;  and  such  fellows  go  fast  and 
far,"  said  Desroches. 

"  Why  do  you  suppose  that  he  will  not  succeed  by 
honest  means?"  demanded  Madame  Bridau. 


344  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  You  will  see  !  "  exclaimed  Desroches.  "  Fortunate 
or  unfortunate,  Philippe  will  remain  the  man  of  the  rue 
Mazarin,  the  murderer  of  Madame  Descoings,  the 
domestic  thief.  But  don't  worry  yourself;  he  will 
manage  to  appear  honest  to  the  world." 

After  breakfast,  on  the  morning  succeeding  the  mar- 
riage, Philippe  took  Madame  Rouget  b}*  the  arm  when 
his  uncle  rose  from  table  and  went  upstairs  to  dress,  — 
for  the  pair  had  come  down,  the  one  in  her  morning- 
robe,  and  the  other  in  his  dressing-gown. 

"My  dear  aunt,"  said  the  colonel,  leading  her  into 
the  recess  of  a  window,  "  }tou  now  belong  to  the  fam- 
ily. Thanks  to  me,  the  law  has  tied  the  knot.  Now, 
no  nonsense.  I  intend  that  you  and  I  shall  play  above 
board.  I  know  the  tricks  you  will  try  against  me  ;  and 
I  shall  watch  you  like  a  duenna.  You  will  never  go 
out  of  this  house  except  on  1113-  arm  ;  and  you  will  never 
leave  me.  As  to  what  passes  within  the  house,  damn 
it,  you  '11  find  me  like  a  spider  in  the  middle  of  his  web. 
Here  is  something,"  he  continued,  showing  the  bewil- 
dered woman  a  letter,  "  which  will  prove  to  you  that  I 
could,  while  3rou  were  tying  ill  upstairs,  unable  to  move 
hand  or  foot,  have  turned  you  out  of  doors  without  a 
penny.     Read  it." 

He  gave  her  the  letter. 

My  dear  Fellow,  —  Florentine,  who  has  just  made  her 
debut  at  the  new  Opera  House  in  a  pas  de  trois  with  Mariette 
and  Tullia,  is  thinking  steadily  about  your  affair,  and  so 
is  Florine, — who  has  finally  given  up  Lousteau  and  taken 
Nathan.  That  shrewd  pair  have  found  you  a  most  delicious 
little  creature,  —  only  seventeen,  beautiful  as  an  English 
woman,   demure  as  a   "lady,"  up  to  all   mischief,   sly  as 


The  Two  Brothers.  345 

Desroches,  faithful  as  Godeschal.  Mariette  is  forming  her, 
so  as  to  give  you  a  fair  chance.  No  woman  could  hold  her 
own  against  this  little  angel,  who  is  a  devil  under  her  skin; 
she  can  play  any  part  you  please;  get  complete  possession  of 
your  uncle,  or  drive  him  crazy  with  love.  She  has  that 
celestial  look  poor  Coralie  used  to  have;  she  can  weep,  —  the 
tones  of  her  voice  will  draw  a  thousand-franc  note  from  a 
granite  heart ;  and  the  young  mischief  soaks  up  champagne 
better  than  any  of  us.  It  is  a  precious  discovery ;  she  is 
under  obligations  to  Mariette,  and  wants  to  pay  them  off. 
After  squandering  the  fortunes  of  two  Englishmen,  a  Rus- 
sian, and  an  Italian  prince,  Mademoiselle  Esther  is  now  in 
poverty;  give  her  ten  thousand  francs,  that  will  satisfy  her. 
She  has  just  remarked,  laughing,  that  she  has  never  yet 
fricasseed  a  bourgeois,  and  it  will  get  her  hand  in.  Esther 
is  well  known  to  Finot,  Bixiou,  and  des  Lupeaulx,  in  fact  to 
all  our  set.  Ah !  if  there  were  any  real  fortunes  left  in  France, 
she  would  be  the  greatest  courtesan  of  modern  times. 

All  the  editorial  staff,  Nathan,  Finot,  Bixiou,  etc.,  are  now 
joking  the  aforesaid  Esther  in  a  magnificent  appartement  just 
arranged  for  Florine  by  old  Lord  Dudley  (the  real  father  of 
de  Marsav) ;  the  lively  actress  captured  him  by  the  dress  of 
her  new  role.  Tullia  is  with  the  Due  de  Rhetore,  Mariette 
is  still  with  the  Due  de  Mauf rigneuse ;  between  them,  they 
will  get  your  sentence  remitted  in  time  for  the  King's  fete. 
Bury  your  uncle  under  the  roses  before  the  Saint-Louis, 
bring  away  the  property,  and  spend  a  little  of  it  with  Esther 
and  your  old  friends,  who  sign  this  epistle  in  a  body,  to  re- 
mind you  of  them. 

Nathan,  Florine,  Bixiou,  Finot,  Mariette, 
Florentine,  Giroudeau,  Tullia. 

The  letter  shook  in  the  trembling  hands  of  Madame 
Rouget,  and  betrayed  the  terror  of  her  mind  and  body. 
The  aunt  dared  not  look  at  the  nephew,  who  fixed  his 
eyes  upon  her  with  terrible  meaning. 


346  The  Two  Brothers. 

"I  trust  you,"  he  said,  "as  you  see;  but  I  expect 
some  return.  I  have  made  you  my  aunt  intending  to 
marry  you  some  day.  You  are  worth  more  to  me  than 
Esther  in  managing  my  uncle.  In  a  year  from  now,  we 
must  be  in  Paris ;  the  only  place  where  beauty  really 
lives.  You  will  amuse  yourself  much  better  there  than 
here ;  it  is  a  perpetual  carnival.  I  shall  return  to  the 
arnry,  and  become  a  general,  and  you  will  be  a  great 
lad%y.  There 's  our  future ;  now  work  for  it.  But  I 
must  have  a  pledge  to  bind  this  agreement.  You  are 
to  give  me,  within  a  month  from  now,  a  power  of 
attorn e}*  from  my  uncle,  which  you  must  obtain  under 
pretence  of  relieving  him  of  the  fatigues  of  business. 
Also,  a  month  later,  I  must  have  a  special  power  of 
attorney  to  transfer  the  income  in  the  Funds.  When 
that  stands  in  my  name,  you  and  I  have  an  equal  in- 
terest in  marrying  each  other.  There  it  all  is,  my 
beautiful  aunt,  as  plain  as  day.  Between  you  and  me 
there  must  be  no  ambiguity.  I  can  marry  m3*  aunt  at 
the  end  of  a  j-ear's  widowhood  ;  but  I  could  not  marry 
a  disgraced  girl." 

He  left  the  room  without  waiting  for  an  answer. 
When  Vedie  came  in,  fifteen  minutes  later,  to  clear  the 
table,  she  found  her  mistress  pale  and  moist  with  per- 
spiration, in  spite  of  the  season.  Flore  felt  like  a 
woman  who  had  fallen  to  the  bottom  of  a  precipice ; 
the  future  loomed  black  before  her ;  and  on  its  black- 
ness, in  the  far  distance,  were  shapes  of  monstrous 
things,  indistinctly  perceptible,  and  terrifying.  She  felt 
the  damp  chill  of  vaults,  instinctive  fear  of  the  man 
crushed  her ;  and  yet  a  voice  cried  in  her  ear  that  she 
deserved  to  have  him  for  her  master.  She  was  helpless 
against  her  fate.     Flore  Brazier  had  had  a  room  of  her 


The  Two  Brothers.  347 

own  in  Rouget's  house ;  but  Madame  Rouget  belonged 
to  her  husband,  and  was  now  deprived  of  the  free-will 
of  a  servant-mistress.  In  the  horrible  situation  in  which 
she  now  found  herself,  the  hope  of  having  a  child  came 
into  her  mind ;  but  she  soon  recognized  its  impossi- 
bility.  The  marriage  was  to  Jean-Jacques  what  the 
second  marriage  of  Louis  XII.  was  to  that  king.  The 
incessant  watchfulness  of  a  man  like  Philippe,  who  had 
nothing  to  do  and  never  quitted  his  post  of  observa- 
tion, made  an}T  form  of  vengeance  impossible.  Benjamin 
was  his  innocent  and  devoted  sp}\  The  Vedie  trembled 
before  him.  Flore  felt  herself  deserted  and  utterly 
helpless.  She  began  to  fear  death.  Without  knowing 
how  Philippe  might  manage  to  kill  her,  she  felt  certain 
that  whenever  he  suspected  her  of  pregnane}'  her  doom 
would  be  sealed.  The  sound  of  that  voice,  the  veiled 
glitter  of  that  gambler's  e}*e,  the  slightest  movement  of 
the  soldier,  who  treated  her  with  a  brutality  that  was  stilt 
polite,  made  her  shudder.  As  to  the  power  of  attorney 
demanded  by  the  ferocious  colonel,  who  in  the  eyes  of 
all  Issoudun  was  a  hero,  he  had  it  as  soon  as  he  wanted 
it ;  for  Flore  fell  under  the  man's  dominion  as  France 
had  fallen  under  that  of  Napoleon. 

Like  a  butterfly  whose  feet  are  caught  in  the  incan- 
descent wax  of  a  taper,  Rouget  rapidly  dissipated  his 
remaining  strength.  In  presence  of  that  decay,  the 
nephew  remained  as  cold  and  impassible  as  the  diplo- 
matists of  1814  during  the  convulsions  of  imperial 
France. 

Philippe,  who  did  not  believe  in  Napoleon  II.,  now 
wrote  the  following  letter  to  the  minister  of  war,  which 
Mariette  made  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse  convej-  to  that 
functionary :  — 


348  The  Two  Brothers. 

Monseigneur,  —  Napoleon  is  no  more.  I  desired  to  re- 
main faithful  to  him  according  to  my  oath ;  now  I  am  free 
to  offer  my  services  to  His  Majesty.  If  your  Excellency 
deigns  to  explain  my  conduct  to  His  Majesty,  the  King 
will  see  that  it  is  in  keeping  with  the  laws  of  honor,  if  not 
with  those  of  his  government.  The  King,  who  thought  it 
proper  that  his  aide-de-camp,  General  Rapp,  should  mourn 
his  former  master,  will  no  doubt  feel  indulgently  for  me. 
Napoleon  was  my  benefactor. 

I  therefore  entreat  your  Excellency  to  take  into  considera- 
tion the  request  I  make  for  employment  in  my  proper  rank ; 
and  I  beg  to  assure  you  of  my  entire  submission.  The  King 
will  find  in  me  a  faithful  subject. 

Deign  to  accept  the  assurance  of  respect  with  which  I  have 
the  honor  to  be, 

Your  Excellency's  very  submissive  and 

Very  humble  servant, 

Philippe  Bridau. 
Formerly  chief  of  squadron  in  the  dragoons  of  the  Guard; 
officer  of  the  Legion  of  honor;  now  under  police  surveil- 
lance at  Issoudun. 

To  this  letter  was  joined  a  request  for  permission  to 
go  to  Paris  on  urgent  famil}-  business ;  and  Monsieur 
Mouilleron  annexed  letters  from  the  mayor,  the  sub- 
prefect,  and  the  commissary  of  police  at  Issoudun,  all 
bestowing  many  praises  on  Philippe's  conduct,  and 
dwelling  upon  the  newspaper  article  relating  to  his 
uncle's  marriage. 

Two  weeks  later,  Philippe  received  the  desired  per- 
mission, and  a  letter,  in  which  the  minister  of  war 
informed  him  that,  by  order  of  the  King,  he  was,  as 
a  preliminary  favor,  reinstated  lieutenant-colonel  in  the 
royal  army. 


The  Two  Brothers.  349 


XVII. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Bridau  returned  to  Paris,  tak- 
ing with  him  his  aunt  and  the  helpless  Rouget,  whom 
he  escorted,  three  days  after  their  arrival,  to  the 
Treasuiy,  where  Jean-Jacques  signed  the  transfer  of 
the  income,  which  henceforth  became  Philippe's.  The 
exhausted  old  man  and  the  Rabouilleuse  were  now 
plunged  b}T  their  nephew  into  the  excessive  dissipa- 
tions of  the  dangerous  and  restless  society  of  actresses, 
journalists,  artists,  and  the  equivocal  women  among 
whom  Philippe  had  already  wasted  his  3*outh ;  where 
old  Rouget  found  excitements  that  soon  after  killed 
him.  Instigated  by  Giroudeau,  Lolotte,  one  of  the 
handsomest  of  the  Opera  ballet- girls,  was  the  ami- 
able assassin  of  the  old  man.  Rouget  died  after  a 
splendid  supper  at  Florentine's,  and  Lolotte  threw  the 
blame  of  his  death  upon  a  slice  of  pate  de  foie  gras ; 
as  the  Strasburg  masterpiece  could  make  no  defence, 
it  was  considered  settled  that  the  old  man  died  of 
indigestion. 

Madame  Rouget  was  in  her  element  in  the  midst 
of  this  excessively  decollete  society  ;  but  Philippe  gave 
her  in  charge  of  Mariette,  and  that  monitress  did  not 
allow  the  widow  —  whose  mourning  was  diversified  with 
a  few  amusements  —  to  commit  any  actual  follies. 

In  October,  1823,  Philippe  returned  to  Issoudun,  fur- 
nished with  a  power  of  attorney  from  his  aunt,  to  liqui- 
date the  estate  of  his  uncle ;  a  business  that  was  soon 


350  The  Tivo  Brothers. 

over,  for  he  returned  to  Paris  in  March,  1824,  with  six- 
teen hundred  thousand  francs,  —  the  net  proceeds  of  old 
Rouget's  property,  not  counting  the  precious  pictures, 
I  which  had  never  left  Monsieur  Hochon's  hands.  Philippe 
put  the  whole  property  into  the  hands  of  Mongenod  and 
Sons,  where  3*oung  Baruch  Borniche  was  employed,  and 
on  whose  solvency  and  business  probity  old  Hochon 
had  given  him  satisfactory  assurances.  This  house  took 
his  sixteen  hundred  thousand  francs  at  six  per  cent  per 
annum,  on  condition  of  three  months'  notice  in  case  of 
the  withdrawal  of  the  money. 

One  fine  day,  Philippe  went  to  see  his  mother,  and 
invited  her  to  be  present  at  his  marriage,  which  was 
witnessed  by  Giroudeau,  Finot,  Nathan,  and  Bixiou. 
By  the  terms  of  the  marriage  contract,  the  widow 
Rouget,  whose  portion  of  her  late  husband's  property 
amounted  to  a  million  of  francs,  secured  to  her  future 
husband  her  whole  fortune  in  case  she  died  without 
children.  No  invitations  to  the  wedding  were  sent  out, 
nor  any  billets  de  f  aire  part ;  Philippe  had  his  designs. 
He  lodged  his  wife  in  an  appartement  in  the  rue  Saint- 
Georges,  which  he  bought  read}*- furnished  from  Lolotte. 
Madame  Bridau  the  }'ounger  thought  it  delightful,  and 
her  husband  rarely  set  foot  in  it.  Without  her  knowl- 
edge, Philippe  purchased  in  the  rue  de  Cliclry,  at  a 
time  when  no  one  suspected  the  value  which  propert}' 
in  that  quarter  would  one  day  acquire,  a  magnificent 
hotel  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs ;  of 
which  he  paid  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  down, 
taking  two  years  to  pay  the  remainder.  He  spent  large 
sums  in  altering  the  interior  and  furnishing  it ;  in  fact, 
he  put  his  income  for  two  years  into  this  outlay.  The 
pictures,  now  restored,  and  estimated  at  three  hundred 


I 


The  Two  Brothers.  351 

thousand  francs,  appeared  in  such  surroundings  in  all 
their  beauty. 

The  accession  of  Charles  X.  had  brought  into  still 
greater  court  favor  the  family  of  the  Due  de  Chaulieu, 
whose  eldest  son,  the  Due  de  Rhetore,  was  in  the 
habit  of  seeing  Philippe  at  Tullia's.  Under  Charles  X., 
the  elder  branch  of  the  Bourbons,  believing  itself  per- 
manently seated  on  the  throne,  followed  the  advice  pre- 
viously given  b}T  Marshal  Gouvion-Saint-CjT  to  encourage 
the  adherence  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Empire.  Philippe, 
who  had  no  doubt  made  invaluable  revelations  as  to 
the  conspiracies  of  1820  and  1822,  was  appointed 
lieutenant-colonel  in  the  regiment  of  the  Due  de  Mau- 
frigneuse.  That  fascinating  nobleman  thought  himself 
bound  to  protect  the  man  from  whom  he  had  taken 
Mariette.  The  corps-de-ballet  went  for  something, 
therefore,  in  the  appointment.  Moreover,  it  was  de- 
cided in  the  private  councils  of  Charles  X.  to  give  a 
faint  tinge  of  liberalism  to  the  surroundings  of  Mon- 
seigneur  the  Dauphin.  Philippe,  now  a  sort  of  equerry 
to  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse,  was  presented  not  only  to 
the  Dauphin,  but  also  to  the  Dauphine,  who  was  not 
averse  to  brusque  and  soldierly  characters  who  had 
become  noted  for  a  past  fidelity.  Philippe  thoroughly 
understood  the  part  the  Dauphin  had  to  play ;  and  he 
turned  the  first  exhibition  of  that  spurious  liberalism  to 
his  own  profit,  b}~  getting  himself  appointed  aide-de- 
camp to  a  marshal  who  stood  well  at  court. 

In  January,  1827,  Philippe,  who  was  now  promoted 
to  the  Royal  Guard  as  lieutenant-colonel  in  a  regiment 
then  commanded  b}T  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse,  solicited 
the  honor  of  being  ennobled.  Under  the  Restoration, 
nobilit}-  became  a  sort  of  perquisite  to  the  roturiers 


352  The  Two  Brothers. 

who  served  in  the  Guard.  Colonel  Bridau  had  lately 
bought  the  estate  of  Brambourg,  and  he  now  asked  to 
be  allowed  to  entail  it  under  the  title  of  count.  This 
favor  was  accorded  through  the  influence  of  his  many 
intimacies  in  the  highest  rank  of  society,  where  he  now 
appeared  in  all  the  luxury  of  horses,  carriages,  and  liv- 
eries ;  in  short,  with  the  surroundings  of  a  great  lord. 
As  soon  as  he  saw  himself  gazetted  in  the  Almanack 
under  the  title  of  Comte  de  Brambourg,  he  began  to 
frequent  the  house  of  a  lieutenant-general  of  artillery, 
the  Comte  de  Soulanges. 

Insatiable  in  his  wants,  and  backed  by  the  mistresses 
of  influential  men,  Philippe  now  solicited  the  honor  of 
being  one  of  the  Dauphin's  aides-de-camp.  lie  had  the 
audacity  to  say  to  the  Dauphine  that  "  an  old  soldier, 
wounded  on  many  a  battle-field  and  who  knew  real  war- 
fare, might,  on  occasion,  be  serviceable  to  Monseigneur." 
Philippe,  who  could  take  the  tone  of  all  varieties  of 
sycophancy,  became  in  the  regions  of  the  highest  social 
life  exactly  what  the  position  required  him  to  be ;  just 
as  at  Issoudun,  he  had  copied  the  respectability  of 
Mignonnet.  He  had,  moreover,  a  fine,  establishment 
and  gave  fetes  and  dinners ;  admitting  none  of  his  old 
friends  to  his  house  if  he  thought  their  position  in  life 
likely  to  compromise  his  future.  He  was  pitiless  to  the 
companions  of  his  former  debauches,  and  curtly  refused 
Bixiou  when  that  lively  satirist  asked  him  to  sa}r  a  word 
in  favor  of  Giroudeau,  who  wanted  to  re-enter  the  army 
after  the  desertion  of  Florentine. 

44  The  man  has  neither  manners  nor  morals,"  said 
Philippe. 

44  Ha!  did  he  say  that  of  me?"  cried  Giroudeau, 
44  of  me,  who  helped  him  to  get  rid  of  his  uncle  !  " 


The  Two  Brothers.  353 

"  We'll  pa}'  him  off  yet,"  said  Bixiou. 

Philippe  intended  to  marry  Mademoiselle  Amelie  de 
Soulanges,  and  become  a  general,  in  command  of  a 
regiment  of  the  Royal  Guard.  He  asked  so  many 
favors  that,  to  keep  him  quiet,  the}'  made  him  a  Com- 
mander of  the  Legion  of  honor,  and  also  Commander 
of  the  order  of  Saint  Louis.  One  rainy  evening,  as 
Agathe  and  Joseph  were  returning  home  along  the 
muddy  streets,  they  met  Philippe  in  full  uniform,  be- 
dizened with  orders,  leaning  back  in  a  corner  of  a  hand- 
some coupe  lined  with  yellow  silk,  whose  armorial 
bearings  were  surmounted  with  a  count's  coronet.  He 
was  on  his  way  to  a  fete  at  the  Elysee-Bourbon ;  the 
wheels  splashed  his  mother  and  brother  as  he  waved 
them  a  patronizing  greeting. 

"He's  going  it,  that  fellow!"  said  Joseph  to  his 
mother.  "Nevertheless,  he  might  send  us  something 
better  than  mud  in  our  faces." 

44  He  has  such  a  fine  position,  in  such  high  society, 
that  we  ought  not  to  blame  him  for  forgetting  us,"  said 
Madame  Bridau.  "  When  a  man  rises  to  so  great  a 
height,  he  has  man}'  obligations  to  repay,  many  sacri- 
fices to  make ;  it  is  natural  he  should  not  come  to  see 
us,  though  he  may  think  of  us  all  the  same." 

4 'My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse 
one  evening,  to  the  new  Comte  de  Brambourg,  '■*  I  am 
sure  that  your  addresses  will  be  favorably  received  ;  but 
in  order  to  marry  Amelie  de  Soulanges,  you  must  be 
free  to  do  so.     What  have  you  done  with  your  wife  ?  " 

44  My  wife?"  said  Philippe,  with  a  gesture,  look,  and 
accent  which  Frederick  Lemaitre  was  inspired  to  use  in 
one  of  his  most  terrible  parts.  44  Alas  !  I  have  the  mel- 
ancholy certainty  of  losing  her.     She  has  not  a  week  to 

23 


354  The  Two  Brothers. 

live.  My  dear  duke,  }rou  don't  know  what  it  is  to  marry 
beneath  30U.  A  woman  who  was  a  cook,  and  has  the 
tastes  of  a  cook  !  who  dishonors  me  —  ah  !  I  am  much 
to  be  pitied.  I  have  had  the  honor  to  explain  my  posi- 
tion to  Madame  la  Dauphine.  At  the  time  of  the  mar- 
riage, it  was  a  question  of  saving  to  the  family  a  million 
of  francs  which  my  uncle  had  left  by  will  to  that  person. 
Happily,  my  wife  took  to  drinking ;  at  her  death,  I 
come  into  possession  of  that  million,  which  is  now  in 
the  hands  of  Mongenod  and  Sons.  I  have  thirty  thou- 
sand francs  a  year  in  the  five  per  cents,  and  m}*  landed 
property,  which  is  entailed,  brings  me  in  forty  thousand 
more.  If,  as  I  am  led  to  suppose,  Monsieur  de  Sou- 
langes  gets  a  marshal's  baton,  I  am  on  the  high-road, 
with  my  title  of  Comte  de  Brambourg,  to  becoming 
general  and  peer  of  France.  That  will  be  the  proper 
end  of  an  aide-de-camp  of  the  Dauphin." 

After  the  Salon  of  1823,  one  of  the  leading  painters 
of  the  da}*,  a  most  excellent  man,  obtained  the  manage- 
ment of  a  lotter}T-office  near  the  Markets,  for  the  mother 
of  Joseph  Bridau.  Agathe  was  fortunately  able,  soon 
after,  to  exchange  it  on  equal  terms  with  the  incumbent 
of  another  office,  situated  in  the  rue  de  Seine,  in  a  house 
where  Joseph  was  able  to  have  his  atelier.  The  widow 
now  hired  an  agent  herself,  and  was  no  longer  an  ex- 
pense to  her  son.  And  yet,  as  late  as  1828,  though  she 
was  the  directress  of  an  excellent  office  which  she  owed 
entirety  to  Joseph's  fame,  Madame  Bridau  still  had  no 
belief  in  that  fame,  which  was  hotly  contested,  as  all 
true  glor}T  ever  will  be.  The  great  painter,  struggling 
with  his  genius,  had  enormous  wants  ;  he  did  not  earn 
enough  to  pa}'  for  the  luxuries  which  his  relations  to 


The  Two  Brothers.  355 

soeiet}',  and  his  distinguished  position  in  the  young 
School  of  Art  demanded.  Though  powerfully  sustained 
by  his  friends  of  the  Cenacle  and  by  Mademoiselle  des 
Touches,  he  did  not  please  the  Bourgeois.  That  being, 
from  whom  comes  the  mone}*  of  these  days,  never  unties 
its  purse-strings  for  genius  that  is  called  in  question ; 
unfortunately,  Joseph  had  the  classics  and  the  Institute, 
and  the  critics  who  cry  up  those  two  powers,  against 
him.  The  brave  artist,  though  backed  by  Gros  and 
Gerard,  by  whose  influence  he  was  decorated  after  the 
Salon  of  1827,  obtained  few  orders.  If  the  ministry  of 
the  interior  and  the  King's  household  were  with  difficult}' 
induced  to  buy  some  of  his  greatest  pictures,  the  shop- 
keepers and  the  rich  foreigners  noticed  them  still  less. 
Moreover,  Joseph  gave  way  rather  too  much,  as  we 
must  all  acknowledge,  to  imaginative  fancies,  and  that 
produced  a  certain  inequality  in  his  work  which  his  ene- 
mies made  use  of  to  deny  his  talent. 

4 'High  art  is  at  a  low  ebb,"  said  his  friend  Pierre 
Grassou,  who  made  daubs  to  suit  the  taste  of  the  bour- 
geoisie, in  whose  appartements  fine  paintings  were  at  a 
discount. 

u  You  ought  to  have  a  whole  cathedral  to  decorate ; 
that's  what  you  want,"  declared  Schinner ;  uthen  you 
would  silence  criticism  with  a  master-stroke." 

Such  speeches,  which  alarmed  the  good  Agathe,'only 
corroborated  the  judgment  she  had  long  since  formed 
upon  Philippe  and  Joseph.  Facts  sustained  that  judg- 
ment in  the  mind  of  a  woman  who  had  never  ceased  to 
be  a  provincial.  Philippe,  her  favorite  child,  was  he  not 
the  great  man  of  the  family  at  last?  in  his  early  errors 
she  saw  only  the  ebullitions  of  youth.  Joseph,  to  the 
merit  of  whose  productions  she  was  insensible,  for  she 


356  Tlie  Two  Brothers. 

saw  them  too  long  in  process  of  gestation  to  admire  them 
when  finished,  seemed  to  her  no  more  advanced  in  1828 
than  he  was  in  1816.  Poor  Joseph  owed  money,  and 
was  bowed  down  b}r  the  burden  of  debt ;  he  had  chosen, 
she  felt,  a  worthless  career  that  made  him  no  return. 
She  could  not  conceive  wiry  they  had  given  him  the 
cross  of  the  Legion  of  honor.  Philippe,  on  the  other 
hand,  rich  enough  to  cease  gambling,  a  guest  at  the 
fetes  of  Madame,  the  brilliant  colonel  who  at  all  reviews 
and  in  all  processions  appeared  before  her  e3'es  in  splen- 
did uniforms,  with  his  two  crosses  on  his  breast,  realized 
all  her  maternal  dreams.  One  such  da}T  of  public  cere- 
mony effaced  from  Agathe's  mind  the  horrible  sight  of 
Philippe's  misery  on  the  Quai  de  l'Ecole ;  on  that  day 
he  passed  his  mother  at  the  self-same  spot,  in  atten- 
dance on  the  Dauphin,  with  plumes  in  his  shako,  and 
his  pelisse  gorgeous  with  gold  and  fur.  Agathe,  who  to 
her  artist  son  was  now  a  sort  of  devoted  gray  sister, 
felt  herself  the  mother  of  none  but  the  dashing  aide-de- 
camp to  his  Royal  Highness,  the  Dauphin  of  France. 
Proud  of  Philippe,  she  felt  he  made  the  ease  and  hap- 
piness of  her  life,  —  forgetting  that  the  lotte^-offiee, 
b}r  which  she  was  enabled  to  live  at  all,  came  through 
Joseph. 

One  day  Agathe  noticed  that  her  poor  artist  was 
more  worried  than  usual  by  the  bill  of  his  color-man, 
and  she  determined,  though  cursing  his  profession  in 
her  heart,  to  free  him  from  his  debts.  The  poor  woman 
kept  the  house  with  the  proceeds  of  her  office,  and  took 
care  never  to  ask  Joseph  for  a  farthing.  Consequent^' 
she  had  no  money  of  her  own ;  but  she  relied  on 
Philippe's  good  heart  and  well-filled  purse.  For  three 
years  she  had  waited  in  expectation  of  his  coming  to 


The  Two  Brothers.  357 

see  her ;  she  now  imagined  that  if  she  made  an  appeal 
to  him  he  would  bring  some  enormous  sum  ;  and  her 
thoughts  dwelt  on  the  happiness  she  should  feel  in 
giving  it  to  Joseph,  whose  judgment  of  his  brother, 
like  that  of  Madame  Descoings,  was  so  unfair. 

Saying  nothing  to  Joseph,  she  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  Philippe :  — 

To  Monsieur  le  comte  de  Brambourg: 

My  dear  Philippe,  — You  have  not  given  the  least  little 
word  of  remembrance  to  your  mother  for  five  years.  That 
is  not  right.  You  should  remember  the  past,  if  only  for  the 
sake  of  your  excellent  brother.  Joseph  is  now  in  need  of 
money,  and  you  are  floating  in  wealth;  he  works,  while  you 
are  flying  from  fete  to  fete.  You  now  possess,  all  to  your- 
self, the  property  of  my  brother.  Little  Borniche  tells  me 
you  cannot  have  less  than  two  hundred  thousand  francs  a 
year.  Well,  then,  come  and  see  Joseph.  During  your  visit, 
slip  into  the  skull  a  few  thousand-franc  notes.  Philippe, 
you  owe  them  to  us;  nevertheless,  your  brother  will  feel 
grateful  to  you,  not  to  speak  of  the  happiness  you  will  give 

Your  mother, 
Agathe  Bridau,  nee  Rouget. 

Two  da}Ts  later  the  concierge  brought  to  the  atelier, 
where  poor  Agathe  was  breakfasting  with  Joseph,  the 
following  terrible  letter  :  — 

My  dear  Mother,  —  A  man  does  not  marry  a  Made- 
moiselle Amelie  de  Soulanges  without  the  purse  of  For- 
tunatus,  if  under  the  name  of  Comte  de  Brambourg  he 
hides  that  of 

Your  son, 

Philippe  Bridau. 

As  Agathe  fell  half-fainting  on  the  sofa,  the  letter 
dropped  to  the  floor.     The  slight   noise  made  by  the 


358  The  Two  Brothers. 

paper,  and  the  smothered  but  dreadful  exclamation 
which  escaped  Agathe  startled  Joseph,  who  had  for- 
gotten his  mother  for  a  moment  and  was  vehemently 
rubbing  in  a  sketch ;  he  leaned  his  head  round  the 
edge  of  his  canvas  to  see  what  had  happened.  The 
sight  of  his  mother  stretched  on  the  floor  made  him 
drop  palette  and  brushes,  and  rush  to  lift  what  seemed 
a  lifeless  body.  He  took  Agathe  in  his  arms  and  car- 
ried her  to  her  own  bed,  and  sent  the  servant  for  his 
friend  Horace  Bianchon.  As  soon  as  he  could  ques- 
tion his  mother  she  told  him  of  her  letter  to  Philippe, 
and  of  the  answer  she  had  received  from  him.  The 
artist  went  to  his  atelier  and  picked  up  the  letter, 
whose  concise  brutality  had  broken  the  tender  heart  of 
the  poor  mother,  and  shattered  the  edifice  of  trust  her 
maternal  preference  had  erected.  When  Joseph  re- 
turned to  her  bedside  he  had  the  good  feeling  to  be 
silent.  He  did  not  speak  of  his  brother  in  the  three 
weeks  during  which  —  we  will  not  say  the  illness,  but  — 
the  death  agon}'  of  the  poor  woman  lasted.  Bianchon, 
who  came  every  day  and  watched  his  patient  with  the 
devotion  of  a  true  friend,  told  Joseph  the  truth  on  the 
first  day  of  her  seizure. 

u  At  her  age,"  he  said,  "  and  under  the  circum- 
stances which  have  happened  to  her,  all  we  can  hope  to 
do  is  to  make  her  death  as  little  painful  as  possible-" 

She  herself  felt  so  surely  called  of  God  that  she 
asked  the  next  da}T  for  the  religious  help  of  old  Abbe 
Loraux,  who  had  been  her  confessor  for  more  than 
twenty-two  years.  As  soon  as  she  was  alone  with  him, 
and  had  poured  her  griefs  into  his  heart,  she  said  —  as 
she  had  said  to  Madame  Hochon,  and  had  repeated  to 
herself  again  and  again  throughout  her  life :  — 


The  Two  Brothers.  359 

kt  What  have  I  done  to  displease  God?  Have  I  not 
loved  Him  with  all  nw  soul?  Have  I  wandered  from 
the  path  of  grace  ?  What  is  my  sin  ?  Can  I  be  guilty 
of  wrong  when  I  know  not  what  it  is?  Have  I  the 
time  to  repair  it? "  ' 

"  No,"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  gentle  voice.  "  Alas  ! 
your  life  seems  to  have  been  pure  and  your  soul  spot- 
less ;  but  the  eye  of  God,  poor  afflicted  creature,  is 
keener  than  that  of  his  ministers.  I  see  the  truth  too 
late  ;  for  you  have  misled  even  me." 

Hearing  these  words  from  lips  that  had  never  spoken 
other  than  peaceful  and  pleasant  words  to  her,  Agathe 
rose  suddenly  in  her  bed  and  opened  her  eyes  wide, 
with  terror  and  distress. 

'k  Tell  me  !  tell  me  !  "  she  cried. 

"Be  comforted,"  said  the  priest.  "Your  punish- 
ment is  a  proof  that  you  will  receive  pardon.  God 
chastens  his  elect.  Woe  to  those  whose  misdeeds  meet 
with  fortunate  success  ;  they  will  be  kneaded  again  in 
humanity  until  they  in  their  turn  are  sorely  punished 
for  simple  errors,  and  are  brought  to  the  maturity  of 
celestial  fruits.  Your  life,  my  daughter,  has  been  one 
long  error.  You  have  fallen  into  the  pit  which  you 
dug  for  yourself ;  we  fail  ever  on  the  side  we  have  our- 
selves weakened.  You  gave  your  heart  to  an  unnat- 
ural son,  in  whom  you  made  your  gioiy,  and  you  have 
misunderstood  the  child  who  is  your  true  glory.  You 
have  been  so  deeply  unjust  that  you  never  even  saw 
the  striking  contrast  between  the  brothers.  You  owe 
the  comfort  of  your  life  to  Joseph,  while  3-our  other 
son  has  pillaged  you  repeatedly.  The  poor  son,  who 
loves  you  with  no  return  of  equal  tenderness,  gives  you 
ail  the  comfort  that  your  life  has  had ;  the  rich  son, 


360  The  Two  Brothers.      . 

who  never  thinks  of  3-011,  despises  3-ou  and  desires  your 
death  —  " 

"  Oh  !  no,"  she  cried. 

4 'Yes,"  resumed  the  priest,  "  yowv  humble  position 
stands  in  the  way  of  his  proud  hopes.  Mother,  these 
are  your  sins  !  Woman,  3-our  sorrows  and  3-our  an- 
guish foretell  that  30U  shall  know  the  peace  of  God. 
Your  son  Joseph  is  so  noble  that  his  tenderness  has 
never  been  lessened  hy  the  injustice  3'our  maternal 
preferences  have  done  him.  Love  him  now  ;  give  him 
all  your  heart  during  your  remaining  da3*s ;  pra3T  for 
him,  as  I  shall  pray  for  30U." 

The  e3^es  of  the  mother,  opened  by  so  firm  a  hand, 
took  in  with  one  retrospective  glance  the  whole  course 
of  her  life.  Illumined  b3T  this  flash  of  light,  she  saw  her 
involuntary  wrong-doing  and  burst  into  tears.  The  old 
priest  was  so  deeply  moved  at  the  repentance  of  a  being 
who  had  sinned  solety  through  ignorance,  that  he  left 
the  room  hastil3T  lest  she  should  see  his  pity. 

Joseph  returned  to  his  mother's  room  about  two 
hours  after  her  confessor  had  left  her.  He  had  been 
to  a  friend  to  borrow  the  necessary  money  to  pa3'  his 
most  pressing  debts,  and  he  came  in  on  tiptoe,  thinking 
that  his  mother  was  asleep.  He  sat  down  in  an  arm- 
chair without  her  seeing  him ;  but  he  sprang  up  with 
a  cold  chill  running  through  him  as  he  heard  her  sa3T, 
in  a  voice  broken  with  sobs,  — 

' '  Will  he  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  What  is  it,  mother?  "  he  exclaimed,  shocked  at  the 
stricken  face  of  the  poor  woman,  and  thinking  the  words 
must  mean  the  delirium  that  precedes  death. 

"  Ah,  Joseph!  can  30U  pardon  me,  my  child?"  she 
cried. 


The  Two  Brothers.  361 

"  For  what?  "  he  said. 

44 1  have  never  loved  \ou  as  you  deserved  to  be 
loved." 

"Oh,  what  an  accusation!"  he  cried.  "  Not  loved 
me?  For  seven  years  have  we  not  lived  alone  together? 
All  these  seven  years  have  you  not  taken  care  of  me 
and  done  everything  for  me  ?  Do  I  not  see  you  every 
day,  —  hear  your  voice ?  Are  3011  not  the  gentle  and 
indulgent  companion  of  my  miserable  life?  You  don't 
understand  painting  ?  —  Ah  !  but  that 's  a  gift  not  always 
given.  I  was  sajing  to  Grassou  only  yesterday: 
4  What  comforts  me  in  the  midst  of  my  trials  is  that  I 
have  such  a  good  mother.  She  is  all  that  an  artist's  wife 
should  be  ;  she  sees  to  everything ;  she  takes  care  of 
m}r  material  wants  without  ever  troubling  or  worrying 
me."' 

44  No,  Joseph,  no  ;  }tou  have  loved  me,  but  I  have  not 
returned  you  love  for  love.  Ah  !  would  that  I  could  live 
a  little  longer —     Give  me  your  hand." 

Agathe  took  her  son's  hand,  kissed  it,  held  it  on  her 
heart,  and  looked  in  his  face  a  long  time,  —  letting  him 
see  the  azure  of  her  eyes  resplendent  with  a  tenderness 
she  had  hitherto  bestowed  on  Philippe  only.  The 
painter,  well  fitted  to  judge  of  expression,  was  so  struck 
by  the  change,  and  saw  so  plainly  how  the  heart  of  his 
mother  had  opened  to  him,  that  he  took  her  in  his 
arms,  and  held  her  for  some  moments  to  his  heart, 
crying  out  like  one  beside  himself,  —  44  My  mother! 
oh,  my  mother  ! " 

44  Ah  !  I  feel  that  I  am  forgiven  ! "  she  said.  44  God 
will  confirm  the  child's  pardon  of  its  mother." 

44  You  must  be  calm:  don't  torment  yourself;  hear 
me.     I  feel  myself  loved  enough  in  this  one  moment  for 


362  The  Two  Brothers. 

all  the  past,"  he  said,   as  he  laid  her  back  upon  the 
pillows. 

During  the  two  weeks'  struggle  between  life  and  death, 
there  glowed  such  love  in  every  look  and  gesture  and 
impulse  of  the  soul' of  the  pious  creature,  that  each  effu- 
sion of  her  feelings  seemed  like  the  expression  of  a  life- 
time. The  mother  thought  only  of  the  son  ;  she  herself 
counted  for  nothing ;  sustained  b}*  love,  she  was  una- 
ware of  her  sufferings.  She  used  the  innocent  words  of 
childhood.  D'Arthez,  Michel  Chrestien,  Fulgence  Ridal, 
Pierre  Grassou,  and  Bianchon  often  kept  Joseph  com- 
pany, and  she  heard  them  talking  art  in  a  low  voice  in  a 
corner  of  her  room. 

"Oh,  how  I  wish  I  knew  what  color  is!"  she  ex- 
claimed one  evening  as  she  heard  them  discussing  one 
of  Joseph's  pictures. 

Joseph,  on  his  side,  was  sublimely  devoted  to  his 
mother.  He  never  left  her  chamber ;  answered  tender- 
ness by  tenderness,  cherishing  her  upon  his  heart.  The 
spectacle  was  never  afterwards  forgotten  by  his  friends ; 
and  they  themselves,  a  band  of  brothers  in  talent  and 
nobility  of  nature,  were  to  Joseph  and  his  mother  all 
that  they  should  have  been,  —  friends  who  prayed,  and 
truly  wept ;  not  saying  prayers  and  shedding  tears,  but 
one  with  their  friend  in  thought  and  action.  Joseph, 
inspired  as  much  by  feeling  as  by  genius,  divined  in 
the  occasional  expression  of  his  mother's  face  a  desire 
that  was  deep  hidden  in  her  heart,  and  he  said  one 
day  to  d'Arthez,  — 

M  She  has  loved  that  brigand  Philippe  too  well  not  to 
want  to  see  him  before  she  dies." 

Joseph  begged  Bixiou,  who  frequented  the  Bohemian 
regions  where  Philippe  was  still  occasionally  to  be  found, 


The  Two  Brothers.  363 

to  persuade  that  shameless  son  to  play,  if  only  out  of 
pity,  a  little  comedy  of  tenderness  which  might  wrap 
the  mother's  heart  in  a  winding-sheet  of  illusive  happi- 
ness. Bixiou,  in  his  capacity  as  an  observing  and 
misanthropical  scoffer,  desired  nothing  better  than  to 
undertake  such  a  mission.  When  he  had  made  known 
Madame  Bridau's  condition  to  the  Comte  de  Brambourg, 
who  received  him  in  a  bedroom  hung  with  yellow  dam- 
ask, the  colonel  laughed. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  want  me  to  do  there?"  he 
cried.  "  The  only  service  the  poor  woman  can  render 
me  is  to  die  as  soon  as  she  can ;  she  would  be  rather 
a  sorry  figure  at  m}T  marriage  with  Mademoiselle  de 
Soulanges.  The  less  my  family  is  seen,  the  better  my 
position.  You  can  easily  understand  that  I  should  like 
to  bury  the  name  of  Bridau  under  all  the  monuments 
in  Pere-Lachaise.  My  brother  irritates  me  by  bringing 
the  name  into  publicity.  You  are  too  knowing  not  to 
see  the  situation  as  I  do.  Look  at  it  as  if  it  were  your 
own  :  if  you  were  a  deputy*,  with  a  tongue  like  yours, 
you  would  be  as  much  feared  as  Chauvelin ;  you  would 
be  made  Comte  Bixiou,  and  director  of  the  Beaux- Arts. 
Once  there,  how  should  you  like  it  if  your  grandmother 
Descoings  were  to  turn  up?  Would  you  want  that 
worthy  woman,  who  looked  like  a  Madame  Saint-Leon, 
to  be  hanging  on  to  3011?  Would  you.  give  her  an  arm 
in  the  Tuileries,  and  present  her  to  the  noble  family 
you  were  trying  to  enter?  Damn  it,  you'd  wish  her 
six  feet  under  ground,  in  a  leaden  night-gown.  Come, 
breakfast  with  me,  and  let  us  talk  of  something  else. 
I  am  a  parvenu,  my  dear  fellow,  and  I  know  it.  I  don't 
choose  that  my  swaddling-clothes  shall  be  seen.  Mj^ 
son  will  be  more  fortunate  than  I ;  he  will  be  a  great 


364  The  Two  Brothers. 

lord.  The  scamp  will  wish  me  dead  ;  I  expect  it,  —  or 
he  won't  be  my  son." 

He  rang  the  bell,  and  ordered  the  servant  to  serve 
breakfast. 

"The  fashionable  world  wouldn't  see  you  in  your 
mother's  bedroom,"  said  Bixiou.  "  What  would  it 
cost  you  to  seem  to  love  the  poor  woman  for  a  few 
hours?" 

"  Whew  !  "  cried  Philippe,  winking.  M  So  you  come 
from  them,  do  you?  I'm  an  old  camel,  who  knows  all 
about  genuflections.  My  mother  makes  the  excuse  of 
her  last  illness  to  get  something  out  of  me  for  Joseph. 
No,  thank  you  !  " 

When  Bixiou  related  this  scene  to  Joseph,  the  poor 
painter  was  chilled  to  the  very  soul. 

"  Does  Philippe  know  I  am  ill?"  asked  Agathe  in  a 
piteous  tone,  the  day  after  Bixiou  had  rendered  an  ac- 
count of  his  fruitless  errand. 

Joseph  left  the  room,  suffocating  with  emotion.  The 
Abbe  Loraux,  who  was  sitting  by  the  bedside  of  his 
penitent,  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it,  and  then  he 
answered,  "Alas!  my  child,  you  have  never  had  but 
one  son." 

The  words,  which  Agathe  understood  but  too  well, 
conveyed  a  shock  which  was  the  beginning  of  the  end. 
She  died  twenty  hours  later. 

In  the  delirium  which  preceded  death,  the  words, 
"  Whom  does  Philippe  take  after?"  escaped  her. 

Joseph  followed  his  mother  to  the  grave  alone.  Phi- 
lippe had  gone,  on  business  it  was  said,  to  Orleans ; 
in  reality,  he  was  driven  from  Paris  by  the  following 
letter,  which  Joseph  wrote  to  him  a  moment  after  their 
mother  had  breathed  her  last  sigh  :  — 


The  Two  Brothers.  865 

Monster!  my  poor  mother  has  died  of  the  shock  your 
letter  caused  her.  Wear  mourning,  but  pretend  illness;  I 
will  not  suffer  her  assassin  to  stand  at  my  side  before  her 
coffin. 

Joseph  B. 

The  painter,  who  no  longer  had  the  heart  to  paint, 
though  his  bitter  grief  sorely  needed  the  mechanical 
distraction  which  labor  is  wont  to  give,  was  surrounded 
by  friends  who  agreed  with  one  another  never  to  leave 
him  entirely  alone.  Thus  it  happened  that  Bixiou,  who 
loved  Joseph  as  much  as  a  satirist  can  love  any  one, 
was  sitting  in  the  atelier  with  a  group  of  other  friends 
about  two  weeks  after  Agathe's  funeral.  The  servant 
entered  with  a  letter,  brought  by  an  old  woman,  she 
said,  who  was  waiting  below  for  the  answer. 

Monsieur,  —  To  you,  whom  I  scarcely  dare  to  call  my 
brother,  I  am  forced  to  address  myself,  if  only  on  account  of 
the  name  I  bear.  — 

Joseph  turned  the  page  and  read  the  signature.  The 
name  ' '  Comtesse  Flore  de  Brambourg "  made  him 
shudder.  He  foresaw  some  new  atrocity  on  the  part 
of  his  brother. 

"  That  brigand,"  he  cried,  "  is  the  devil's  own.  And 
he  calls  himself  a  man  of  honor!  And  he  wears  a  lot 
of  crosses  on  his  breast !  And  he  struts  about  at  court 
instead  of  being  bastinadoed !  And  the  scoundrel  is 
called  Monsieur  le  Comte  !  " 

"There  are  many  like  him,"  said  Bixiou. 

"After  all,"  said  Joseph,  "the  Rabouilleuse  de- 
serves her  fate,  whatever  it  is.  She  is  not  worth  pity- 
ing; she'd  have  had  my  neck  wrung  like  a  chicken's 
without  so  much  as  saying,   '  He 's  innocent.' " 


366  The  Two  Brothers. 

Joseph  flung  away  the  letter,  but  Bixiou  caught  it  in 
the  air,  and  read  it  aloud,  as  follows  :  — 

Is  it  decent  that  the  Comtesse  Bridau  de  Brambourg 
should  die  in  a  hospital,  no  matter  what  may  have  been  her 
faults?  If  such  is  to  be  my  fate,  if  such  is  your  determina- 
tion and  that  of  monsieur  le  comte,  so  be  it;  but  if  so,  will 
you,  who  are  the  friend  of  Doctor  Bianchon,  ask  him  for  a 
permit  to  let  me  enter  a  hospital? 

The  person  who  carries  this  letter  has  been  eleven  consecu- 
tive days  to  the  hotel  de  Brambourg,  rue  de  Clichy,  without 
getting  any  help  from  my  husband.  The  poverty  in  which 
I  now  am  prevents  my  employing  a  lawyer  to  make  a  legal 
demand  for  what  is  due  to  me,  that  I  may  die  with  decency. 
Nothing  can  save  me,  I  know  that.  In  case  you  are  unwill- 
ing to  see  your  unhappy  sister-in-law,  send  me,  at  least,  the 
money  to  end  my  days.  Your  brother  desires  my  death ;  he 
has  always  desired  it.  He  warned  me  that  he  knew  three 
ways  of  killing  a  woman,  but  I  had  not  the  sense  to  foresee 
the  one  he  has  employed. 

In  case  you  will  consent  to  relieve  me,  and  judge  for  your- 
self as  to  the  misery  in  which  I  now  am,  I  live  in  the  rue  du 
Houssay,  at  the  corner  of  the  rue  Chantereine,  on  the  fifth 
floor.  If  I  cannot  pay  my  rent  to-morrow  I  shall  be  put  out 
—  and  then,  where  can  I  go?  May  I  call  myself 
Your  sister-in-law, 

Comtesse  Flore  de  Brambourg. 

"  What  a  pit  of  infamy  !  "  cried  Joseph  ;  ••  there  is 
something  under  it  all." 

"  Let  us  send  for  the  woman  who  brought  the 
letter;  we  may  get  the  preface  of  the  story,"  said 
Bixiou. 

The  woman  presently  appeared,  looking,  as  Bixiou 
observed,  like  perambulating  rags.  She  was,  in  fact, 
a  mass  of  old  gowns,  one  on  top  of  another,  fringed 


The  Two  Brothers.  367 

with  mud  on  account  of  the  weather,  the  whole  mounted 
on  two  thick  legs  with  heav}7  feet  which  were  ill- covered 
by  ragged  stockings  and  shoes  from  whose  cracks  the 
water  oozed  upon  the  floor.  Above  the  mound  of  rags 
rose  a  head  like  those  that  Charlet  has  given  to  his 
scavenger- women,  caparisoned  with  a  filthy  bandanna 
handkerchief  slit  in  the  folds. 

44  What  is  3Tour  name?"  said  Joseph,  while  Bixiou 
sketched  her,  leaning  on  an  umbrella  belonging  to  the 
year  II.  of  the  Republic. 

44  Madame  Gruget,  at  }Tour  service.  I've  seen  better 
dajs,  my  young  gentleman,"  she  said  to  Bixiou,  whose 
laugh  affronted  her.  4  4  If  my  poor  girl  had  n't  had  the 
ill-luck  to  love  some  one  too  much,  }tou  would  n't  see 
me  what  I  am.  She  drowned  herself  in  the  river,  my 
poor  Ida,  —  saving  your  presence  !  I  've  had  the  folly 
to  nurse  up  a  quaterne,  and  that 's  why,  at  seventy- 
seven  years  of  age,  I  'in  obliged  to  take  care  of  sick 
folks  for  ten  sous  a  day,  and  go  —  " 

44 — without  clothes?"  said  Bixiou.  44  My  grand- 
mother nursed  up  a  trey,  but  she  dressed  herself 
properly." 

44  Out  of  my  ten  sous  I  have  to  pay  for  a  lodging  —  " 
44  What 's  the  matter  with  the  lady  you  are  nursing?  " 
44  In  the  first  place,  she  has  n't  got  any  money ;  and 
then  she  has  a  disease  that  scares  the  doctors.  She 
owes  me  for  sixty  days'  nursing  ;  that 's  wiry  I  keep  on 
nursing  her.  The  husband,  who  is  a  count,  —  she  is 
really  a  countess,  —  will  no  doubt  pay  me  when  she  is 
dead ;  and  so  I  've  lent  her  all  I  had.  And1  now  I 
have  n't  anything  ;  all  I  did  have  has  gone  to  the  pawn- 
brokers. She  owes  me  fortyT-seven  francs  and  twelve 
sous,  beside  thirty-  francs  for  the  nursing.     She  w^nts 


) 

368  Tlie  Two  Brothers. 

to  kill  herself  with  charcoal.  *  I  tell  her  it  ain't  right ; 
and,  indeed,  I  've  had  to  get  the  concierge  to  look  after 
her  while  I  'm  gone,  or  she  's  likely  to  jump  out  of  the 
window." 

44  But  what 's  the  matter  with  her?  "  said  Joseph. 

"Ah!  monsieur,  the  doctor  from  the  Sisters'  hos- 
pital came ;  but  as  to  the  disease,"  said  Madame 
Gruget,  assuming  a  modest  air,  "  he  told  me  she  must 
go  to  the  hospital.     The  case  is  hopeless." 

"  Let  us  go  and  see  her,"  said  Bixiou. 

44  Here,"  said  Joseph  to  the  woman,  kt  take  these  ten 
francs." 

Plunging  his  hand  into  the  skull  and  taking  out  all 
his  remaining  mone}',  the  painter  called  a  coach  from 
the  rue  Mazarin  and  went  to  find  Bianchon,  who  was 
fortunate^  at  home.  Meantime  Bixiou  went  off'  at  full 
speed  to  the  rue  de  Bussy,  after  Desroches.  The  four 
friends  reached  Flore's  retreat  in  the  rue  du  Houssay 
an  hour  later. 

"  That  Mephistopheles  on  horseback,  named  Philippe 
Bridau,"  said  Bixiou,  as  they  mounted  the  staircase, 
44  has  sailed  his  boat  cleverly  to  get  rid  of  his  wife. 
You  know  our  old  friend  Lousteau  ?  well,  Philippe  paid 
him  a  thousand  francs  a  month  to  keep  Madame  Bridau 
in  the  societ}*  of  Florine,  Mariette,  Tullia,  and  the  Val- 
Noble.  When  Philippe  saw  his  crab-girl  so  used  to 
pleasure  and  dress  that  she  couldn't  do  without  them, 
he  stopped  paying  the  mone}r,  and  left  her  to  get  it  as 
she  could  —  it  is  easy  to  know  how.  By  the  end  of 
eighteen  months,  the  brute  had  forced  his  wife,  stage 
by  stage,  lower  and  lower  ;  till  at  last,  by  the  help  of  a 
young  officer,  he  gave  her  a  taste  for  drinking.  As  he 
wei  ft  up  in  the  world,  his  wife  went  down  ;  and  the 


The  Two  Brothers.  369 

countess  is  now  in  the  mud.  The  girl,  bred  in  the 
country,  has  a  strong  constitution.  I  don't  know  what 
means  Philippe  has  lately  taken  to  get  rid  of  her.  I  am 
anxious  to  study  this  precious  little  drama,  for  I  am 
determined  to  avenge  Joseph  here.  Alas,  friends,"  he 
added,  in  a  tone  which  left  his  three  companions  in 
doubt  whether  he  was  jesting  or  speaking  seriousl}-, 
"  give  a  man  over  to  a  vice  and  you  '11  get  rid  of  him. 
Did  n't  Hugo  say  :  '  She  loved  a  ball,  and  died  of  it '  ? 
So  it  is.  My  grandmother  loved  the  lottery.  Old 
Rouget  loved  a  loose  life,  and  Lolotte  killed  him. 
Madame  Bridau,  poor  woman,  loved  Philippe,  and  per- 
ished of  it.  Vice  !  vice  !  my  dear  friends,  do  }'ou  want 
to  know  what  vice  is?     It  is  the  Bonneau  of  death." 

"  Then  you  '11  die  of  a  joke,"  said  Desroches,  laughing. 

Above  the  fourth  floor,  the  3'oung  men  were  forced  to 
climb  one  of  the  steep,  straight  stairways  that  are 
almost  ladders,  by  which  the  attics  of  Parisian  houses 
are  often  reached.  Though  Joseph,  who  remembered 
Flore  in  all  her  beauty,  expected  to  see  some  frightful 
change,  he  was  not  prepared  for  the  hideous  spectacle 
which  now  smote  his  artist's  eye.  In  a  room  with  bare, 
unpapered  walls,  under  the  sharp  pitch  of  an  attic  roof, 
on  a  cot  whose  scanty  mattress  was  filled,  perhaps,  with 
refuse  cotton,  a  woman  lay,  green  as  a  body  that  has 
been  drowned  two  days,  thin  as  a  consumptive  an  hour 
before  death.  This  putrid  skeleton  had  a  miserable 
checked  handkerchief  bound  about  her  head,  which  had 
lost  its  hair.  The  circle  round  the  hollow  eyes  was  red, 
and  the  eyelids  were  like  the  pellicle  of  an  egg.  Noth- 
ing remained  of  the  bod}^  once  so  captivating,  but  an 
ignoble,  bony  structure.  As  Flore  caught  sight  of  the 
visitors,  she  drew  across  her  breast  a  bit  of  muslin  which 

24 


370  The  Two  Brothers. 

might  have  been  a  fragment  of  a  window-curtain,  for  it 
was  edged  with  rust  as  from  a  rod.  The  }*oung  men 
saw  two  chairs,  a  broken  bureau  on  which  was  a  tallow- 
candle  stuck  into  a  potato,  a  few  dishes  on  the  floor,  and 
an  earthen  fire-pot  in  a  corner  of  the  chimney,  in  which 
there  was  no  fire  ;  this  was  all  the  furniture  of  the  room. 
Bixiou  noticed  the  remaining  sheets  of  writing-paper, 
bought  from  some  neighboring  grocery  for  the  letter 
which  the  two  women  had  doubtless  concocted  together. 
The  word  disgusting  is  a  positive  to  which  no  super- 
lative exists,  and  we  must  therefore  use  it  to  convey  the 
impression  caused  by  this  sight.  When  the  dying 
woman  saw  Joseph  approaching  her,  two  great  tears 
rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

"She  can  still  weep!"  whispered  Bixiou.  "A 
strange  sight,  —  tears  from  dominos !  It  is  like  the 
miracle  of  Moses." 

*'  How  burnt  up  !  "  cried  Joseph. 

"  In  the  fires  of  repentance,"  said  Flore.  "  I  cannot 
get  a  priest ;  I  have  nothing,  not  even  a  crucifix,  to 
help  me  see  God.  Ah,  monsieur !  "  she  cried,  raising 
her  arms,  that  were  like  two  pieces  of  carved  wood, 
4  \  I  am  a  guilty  woman ;  but  God  never  punished  any 
one  as  he  has  punished  me  !  Philippe  killed  Max,  who 
advised  me  to  do  dreadful  things,  and  now  he  has  killed 
me.     God  uses  him  as  a  scourge  !  " 

"Leave  me  alone  with  her,"  said  Bianchon,  "and 
let  me  find  out  if  the  disease  is  curable." 

"  If  3'ou  cure  her,  Philippe  Bridau  will  die  of  rage," 
said  Desroches.  "I  am  going  to  draw  up  a  statement 
of  the  condition  in  which  we  have  found  his  wife.  He 
has  not  brought  her  before  the  courts  as  an  adulteress, 
and  therefore  her  rights  as  a  wife  are  intact :  he  shall 


The  Two  Brothers.  371 

have  the  shame  of  a  suit.  But  first,  we  must  remove 
the  Comtesse  de  Brambourg  to  the  private  hospital  of 
Doctor  Dubois,  in  the  rue  du  Faubourg-Saint-Denis. 
She  will  be  well  cared  for  there.  Then  I  will  summon 
the  count  for  the  restoration  of  the  conjugal  home." 

11  Bravo,  Desroches  ! "  cried  Bixiou.  "  What  a  pleas- 
ure to  do  so  much  good  that  will  make  some  people  feel 
so  badly !  " 

Ten  minutes  later,  Bianchon  came  down  and  joined 
them. 

"I  am  going  straight  to  Despleins,"  he  said.  "He 
can  save  the  woman  by  an  operation.  Ah !  he  will 
take  good  care  of  the  case,  for  her  abuse  of  liquor  has 
developed  a  magnificent  disease  which  was  thought  to 
be  lost." 

"  Wag  of  a  mangier !  Is  n't  there  but  one  disease  in 
life?"  cried  Bixiou. 

But  Bianchon  was  already  out  of  sight,  so  great  was 
his  haste  to  tell  Despleins  the  wonderful  news.  Two 
hours  later,  Joseph's  miserable  sister-in-law  was  re- 
moved to  the  decent  hospital  established  by  Doctor 
Dubois,  which  was  afterward  bought  of  him  by  the 
city  of  Paris.  Three  weeks  later,  the  "Hospital  Ga- 
zette" published  an  account  of  one  of  the  boldest 
operations  of  modern  surgery,  on  a  case  designated  by 
the  initials  "F.  B."  The  patient  died, — more  from 
the  exhaustion  produced  by  misery  and  starvation  than 
from  the  effects  of  the  treatment. 

No  sooner  did  this  occur,  than  the  Comte  de  Bram- 
bourg went,  in  deep  mourning,  to  call  on  the  Comte 
de  Soulanges,  and  inform  him  of  the  sad  loss  he  had 
just  sustained.  Soon  after,  it  was  whispered  about  in 
the   fashionable   world   that   the   Comte  de   Soulanges 


372  TJie  Two  Brothers. 

would  shortly  rnarr}7  his  daughter  to  a  parvenu  of  great 
merit,  who  was  about  to  be  appointed  brigadier-general 
and  receive  command  of  a  regiment  of  the  Royal  Guard. 
De  Marsay  told  this  news  to  Eugene  de  Rastignac,  as 
the3T  were  supping  together  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale, 
where  Bixiou  happened  to  be. 

' '  It  shall  not  take  place ! "  said  the  witt}T  artist  to 
himself. 

Among  the  many  old  friends  whom  Philippe  now 
refused  to  recognize,  there  were  some,  like  Giroudeau, 
who  were  unable  to  revenge  themselves ;  but  it  hap- 
pened that  he  had  wounded  Bixiou,  who,  thanks  to 
his  brilliant  qualities,  was  everywhere  received,  and 
who  never  forgave  an  insult.  One  day  at  the  Rocher 
de  Cancale,  before  a  number  of  well-bred  persons  who 
were  supping  there,  Philippe  had  replied  to  Bixiou, 
who  spoke  of  visiting  him  at  the  hotel  de  Brambourg : 
M  You  can  come  and  see  me  when  you  are  made  a 
minister". 

"  Am  I  to  turn  Protestant  before  I  can  visit  }tou?" 
said  Bixiou,  pretending  to  misunderstand  the  speech ; 
but  he  said  to  himself,  "You  may  be  Goliath,  but  I 
have  got  my  sling,  and  plenty  of  stones." 

The  next  day  he  went  to  an  actor,  who  was  one  of 
his  friends,  and  metamorphosed  himself,  by  the  all- 
powerful  aid  of  dress,  into  a  secularized  priest  with 
green  spectacles ;  then  he  took  a  carriage  and  drove 
to  the  hotel  de  Soulanges.  Received  by  the  count,  on 
sending  in  a  message  that  he  wanted  to  speak  with 
him  on  a  matter  of  serious  importance,  he  related  in  a 
feigned  voice  the  whole  story  of  the  dead  countess, 
the  secret  particulars  of  whose  horrible  death  had  been 
confided  to  him  by  Bianchon ;  the  histor}T  of  Agathe's 


The  Two  Brothers.  373 

death  ;  the  history  of  old  Rouget's  death,  of  which  the 
Comte  de  Brambourg  had  openly  boasted ;  the  history 
of  Madame  Descoings's  death ;  the  histoiy  of  the  theft 
from  the  newspaper ;  and  the  histoiy  of  Philippe's  pri- 
vate morals  during  his  early  days. 

44  Monsieur  le  comte,  don't  give  him  your  daughter 
until  you  have  made  every  inquiry ;  interrogate  his 
former  comrades,  —  Bixiou,  Giroudeau,  and  others." 

Three  months  later,  the  Comte  de  Brambourg  gave 
a  supper  to  du  Tillet,  Nucingen,  Eugene  de  Rastignac, 
Maxime  de  Trailles,  and  Henri  de  Marsay.  The  am- 
phitryon  accepted  with  much  nonchalance  the  half- 
consolator}7  condolences  they  made  to  him  as  to  his 
rupture  with  the  house  of  Soulanges. 

44  You  can  do  better,"  said  Maxime  de  Trailles. 

44  How  much  mone}'  must  a  man  have  to  marry  a 
demoiselle  de  Grandlieu  ?  "  asked  Philippe  of  de  Marsa}r. 

"You?  They  wouldn't  give  you  the  ugliest  of  the 
six  for  less  than  ten  millions,"  answered  de  Marsay 
insolently. 

44  Bah  !  "  said  Rastignac.  44  With  an  income  of  two 
hundred  thousand  francs  \rou  can  have  Mademoiselle 
de  Langeais,  the  daughter  of  the  marquis  ;  she  is  thirty 
years  old,  and  ugly,  and  she  has  n't  a  sou ;  that  ought 
to  suit  you." 

44 1  shall  have  ten  millions  two  }Tears  from  now,"  said 
Philippe  Bridau. 

44  It  is  now  the  16th  of  January,  1829,"  cried  du  Til- 
let,  laughing.  4  4 1  have  been  hard  at  work  for  ten  years 
and  I  have  not  made  as  much  as  that  yet." 

44  We'll  take  counsel  of  each  other,"  said  Bridau; 
44  you  shall  see  how  well  I  understand  finance." 

44  How  much  do  you  really  own?"  asked  Nucingen. 


374  The  Two  Brothers. 

"  Three  millions,  excluding  my  house  and  my  estate, 
which  I  shall  not  sell ;  in  fact,  I  cannot,  for  the  prop- 
erty is  now  entailed  and  goes  with  the  title." 

Nucingen  and  du  Tillet  looked  at  each  other ;  after 
that  sly  glance,  du  Tillet  said  to  Philippe,  "  My  dear 
count,  I  shall  be  delighted  to  do  business  with  you." 

De  Marsay  intercepted  the  look  du  Tillet  had  ex- 
changed with  Nucingen,  and  which  meant,  "  We  will 
have  those  millions."  The  two  bank  magnates  were  at 
the  centre  of  political  affairs,  and  could,  at  a  given  time, 
manipulate  matters  at  the  Bourse,  so  as  to  play  a  sure 
game  against  Philippe,  when  the  probabilities  might  all 
seem  for  him  and  yet  be  secretly  against  him. 

The  occasion  came.  In  July,  1830,  du  Tillet  and 
Nucingen  had  helped  the  Comte  de  Brambourg  to  make 
fifteen  hundred  thousand  francs  ;  he  could  therefore  feel 
no  distrust  of  those  who  had  given  him  such  good  ad- 
vice. Philippe,  who  owed  his  rise  to  the  Restoration, 
was  misled  by  his  profound  contempt  for  kt  civilians  ;  " 
he  believed  in  the  triumph  of  the  Ordonnances,  and  was 
bent  on  playing  for  a  rise  ;  du  Tillet  and  Nucingen,  who 
were  sure  of  a  revolution,  played  against  him  for  a  fall. 
The  crafty  pair  confirmed  the  judgment  of  the  Comte  de 
Brambourg  and  seemed  to  share  his  convictions ;  they 
encouraged  his  hopes  of  doubling  his  millions,  and  ap- 
parently took  steps  to  help  him.  Philippe  fought  like 
a  man  who  had  four  millions  depending  on  the  issue  of 
the  struggle.  His  devotion  was  so  noticeable,  that  he 
received  orders  to  go  to  Saint-Cloud  with  the  Due  de 
Maufrigneuse  and  attend  a  council.  This  mark  of  favor 
probably  saved  Philippe's  life  ;  for  when  the  order  came, 
on  the  2oth  of  July,  he  was  intending  to  make  a  charge 
and  sweep  the  boulevards,  when  he  would  undoubtedly 


The  Two  Brothers.  375 

have  been  shot  down  by  his  friend  Giroudeau,  who 
commanded  a  division  of  the  assailants. 

A  month  later,  nothing  was  left  of  Colonel  Bridau's 
immense  fortune  but  his  house  and  furniture,  his  es- 
tates, and  the  pictures  which  had  come  from  Issoudun. 
lie  committed  the  still  further  folly,  as  he  said  himself, 
of  believing  in  the  restoration  of  the  elder  branch,  to 
which  he  remained  faithful  until  1834.  The  not  incom- 
prehensible jealous}'  Philippe  felt  on  seeing  Giroudeau 
a  colonel  drove  him  to  re-enter  the  service.  Unluckily 
for  himself,  he  obtained,  in  1835,  the  command  of  a 
regiment  in  Algiers,  where  he  remained  three  years  in 
a  post  of  danger,  always  hoping  for  the  epaulets  of  a 
general.  But  some  malignant  influence  —  that,  in 
fact,  of  General  Giroudeau.  —  continually  balked  him. 
Grown  hard  and  brutal,  Philippe  exceeded  the  ordinary 
severity  of  the  service,  and  was  hated,  in  spite  of  his 
bravery  a  la  Murat. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  fatal  year  1839,  while  making 
a  sudden  dash  upon  the  Arabs  during  a  retreat  before 
superior  forces,  he  flung  himself  against  the  enemy,  fol- 
lowed by  only  a  single  company,  and  fell  in,  unfortu- 
nately, with  the  main  body  of  the  enemy.  The  battle 
was  bloody  and  terrible,  man  to  man,  and  only  a  few 
horsemen  escaped  alive.  Seeing  that  their  colonel  was 
surrounded,  these  men,  who  were  at  some  distance, 
were  unwilling  to  perish  uselessly  in  attempting  to  res- 
cue him.  They  heard  his  cry  :  "  Your  colonel !  to  me  ! 
a  colonel  of  the  Empire !  "  but  they  rejoined  the  regi- 
ment. Philippe  met  with  a  horrible  death,  for  the 
Arabs,  after  hacking  him  in  pieces  with  their  scime- 
tars,  cut  off  his  head. 

Joseph,  who  was  married  about  this  time,  through  the 


376  The  Two  Brothers. 

good  offices  of  the  Comte  de  Serizy,  to  the  daughter  of 
a  million naire  farmer,  inherited  his  brother's  house  in 
Paris  and  the  estate  of  Brambourg,  in  consequence  of 
the  entail,  which  Philippe,  had  he  foreseen  this  result, 
would  certainh*  have  broken.  The  chief  pleasure  the 
painter  derived  from  his  inheritance  was  in  the  fine  col- 
lection of  paintings  from  Issoudun.  He  now  possesses 
an  income  of  sixty  thousand  francs,  and  his  father-in- 
law,  the  farmer,  continues  to  pile  up  the  five-franc 
pieces.  Though  Joseph  Bridau  paints  magnificent  pict- 
ures, and  renders  important  services  to  artists,  he  is 
not  3Tet  a  member  of  the  Institute.  As  the  result  of  a 
clause  in  the  deed  of  entail,  he  is  now  Comte  de  Bram- 
bourg, a  fact  which  often  makes  him  roar  with  laughter 
among  his  friends  in  the  atelier. 


m* 


UNIVEBSITl 
G4UF0BN\k 


University  Press  :   John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


■.:   :"v.    .-'••'-• 


THISBOOKsXtSa^&lastdate 

DAY    AND    TO     $.OOoNT7rNTHEFOURTH 
OVERDUE.  °N     THE    SEVENTH     DAY 


LD  2l-95w-7, 


YB  54504 


5~o<*r01 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


